Running Right Into The Fire
by Julia101
Summary: "You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him you know." Haymitch is right. What other boy could still love me after what I've done? What other boy would still stick by someone pregnant by another? Katniss/Peeta/Gale REUPLOADED
1. Chapter 1

**Running right into the fire**

*Set in Catching Fire* "You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him you know." Haymitch is right. What other boy could still love me after what I've done? What other boy would still stick by someone pregnant by another? Katniss/Peeta/Gale

- Rated M for mature themes

- Originally had this on another account - WeChangeWeWait - but I've decided to go back to using my original one. Sorry for those who did review, favourite, alert and whatever else to that one. If you want to do that to this one, that would be awesome too :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 <strong>

"Take a bath Haymitch," I say frostily, avoiding Peeta's gaze as much as I can. But I can feel Peeta's eyes on me as I squeeze out the window and drop to the ground. I hear a sloshing sound and then a large groan that comes from Peeta, and I am secretly glad that he is staying behind to fix Haymitch up to a presentable standard while I head home. I cross through the thick, coal stained snow, leaving a trail of boot prints behind me.

I look down at my boots and my father's hunting jacket and I know I will have to change my outfit before they come for me in an hour for the tour. I reach the front door but my hand pauses on the doorknob. If I track snow in, my mother will kill me. She's been obsessed with keeping the place clean since we moved into the Victor's Village, probably because she knows that there will be cameras coming, following me and she doesn't want to seem lesser in the eyes of the Capitol.

As I am attempting to slide them off on the front porch, the door opens.

"I'm taking them off," I mutter to her, finally pulling them off my feet. As I chuck them on the mat, my mother grips my arm, holding me in place. Is she that paranoid about me making a mess?

Her hand drifts up my shoulder and she shrugs my game bag from my shoulder. She laughs, but it comes out odd. It is high, nervous like, and it is then that I notice the man behind her in the kitchen doorway.

"Don't worry about the snow," she says. "It's good you've come back from your walk."

I don't even question why she says the word 'walk'. The man looks like the epitome of a Capitol citizen – a fitted, tailored suit wrapped around a lithe yet muscular body and a face that has been unnaturally enhanced. My mother is smart enough to not mention my illegal activities that take place in the woods.

I lean around my abnormally pale mother and smile as broadly as I can at the man. Then I turn back to my mother, and pretend that I don't see the panic that is stretched across her face. "Isn't it still early," I say good-naturedly. "Or has Cinna come to make me look presentable?"

"No Katniss, it's –"

"This way Miss Everdeen," the man interrupts. He gestures down the hallway. A flare of irritation rises in me at this – a capitol man showing me around my home – but I ignore it and simply follows his hand. I smile at my mother as best as I can. I know she is worried for me so I say, "Probably more instructions for the tour." They've been sending me all kinds of stuff about my itinerary and what protocol will be observed in each district, most of which I've only scanned. But as I walk toward the door of the study, a door I have never even seen closed until this moment, I can feel my mind begin to race. My palms begin to sweat and I wipe them down the side of my pants.

Who is here? What do they want? Why is my mother so pale?

"Go right in," says the Capitol man, who has followed me down the hallway. I twist the polished brass knob and step inside. My nose registers the conflicting scents of roses and blood and it screws up. A small, white-haired man who seems vaguely familiar is reading a book. He holds up a finger as if to say, "Give me a moment." Then he turns and my heart skips a beat, or several. I'm staring into the snakelike eyes of President Snow.

Whenever I have pictured President Snow, it has been in front of marble pillars hung with oversized flags. He has a regal, stately kind of aura that surrounds him and so it shocks me to see me surrounded by the ordinary objects in the room like the desk that has lost its varnish or the bookcase that has several screws loose. What could he be doing here? I've never known him to leave the Capitol, especially to visit a victor in their district, especially if its 12. If he's made the journey all the way from his city, it can only mean one thing. I'm in serious trouble. And if I am, so is my family. A shiver goes through me when I think of the proximity of my mother and sister to this man who despises me. Who will always despise me. Because I outsmarted his sadistic Hunger Games, made the Capitol look foolish, and consequently undermined his control. There is no one who deserves his hate more than I.

All I was doing was trying to keep Peeta and myself alive. Any act of rebellion was purely coincidental. But when the Capitol decrees that only one tribute can live and someone has the nerve to challenge it, I guess that's a rebellion in itself. My only defense was pretending that I was driven insane by a passionate love for Peeta. So we were both allowed to live. To be crowned victors. To go home and celebrate and wave good-bye to the cameras and be left alone. Until now. Perhaps it is the newness of the house or the shock of seeing him or the mutual understanding that he could have me killed in a second that makes me feel like the intruder. As if this is his home and I'm the uninvited party.

"I think we'll make this whole situation a lot simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other," he says. "What do you think?"

I think my tongue has frozen and speech will be impossible, so I surprise myself by answering back in a steady voice, "Yes, I think that would save time."

President Snow smiles and I notice his lips for the first time. I'm expecting snake lips, which is to say none. But his are overly full, the skin stretched too tight. "My advisors were concerned you would be difficult, but you're not planning on being difficult, are you?" he asks.

"No," I answer.

"That's what I told them. I said any girl who goes to such lengths to preserve her life isn't going to be interested in throwing it away with both hands. And then there's her family to think of. Her mother, her sister, and all those ... cousins." By the way he lingers on the word "cousins," I can tell he knows that Gale and I don't share a family tree.

Maybe that's better. I don't do well with ambiguous threats. I'd much rather know the score. President Snow takes a seat at the large desk of polished wood where Prim does her homework and my mother her budgets. Like our home, this is a place that he has no right, but ultimately every right, to occupy. I sit in front of the desk on one of the carved, straight-backed chairs. "I have a problem, Miss Everdeen," says President Snow. "A problem that began the moment you pulled out those poisonous berries in the arena." That was the moment when I guessed that if the Gamemakers had to choose between watching Peeta and me commit suicide - which would mean having no victor - and letting us both live, they would take the latter. "If the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, had had any brains, he'd have blown you to dust right then. But he had an unfortunate sentimental streak. So here you are. Can you guess where he is?" he asks. I nod because, by the way he says it, it's clear that Seneca Crane has been executed.

"After that, there was nothing to do but let you play out your little scenario. And you were pretty good, too, with the love-crazed schoolgirl bit. The people in the Capitol were quite convinced. Unfortunately, not everyone in the districts fell for your act," he says. My face must register at least a flicker of bewilderment, because he addresses it. "This, of course, you don't know. You have no access to information about the mood in other districts. In several of them, however, people viewed your little trick with the berries as an act of defiance, not an act of love. And if a girl from District Twelve of all places can defy the Capitol and walk away unharmed, what is to stop them from doing the same?" he says. "What is to prevent, say, an uprising?" It takes a moment for his last sentence to sink in. Then the full weight of it hits me.

"There have been uprisings?" I ask, both chilled and somewhat elated by the possibility.

"Not yet. But they'll follow if the course of things doesn't change. And uprisings have been known to lead to revolution." President Snow rubs a spot over his left eyebrow, the very spot where I myself get headaches. "Do you have any idea what that would mean? How many people would die? What conditions those left would have to face? Whatever problems anyone may have with the Capitol, believe me when I say that if it released its grip on the districts for even a short time, the entire system would collapse." I'm taken aback by the directness and even the sincerity of this speech. As if his primary concern is the welfare of the citizens of Panem, when nothing could be further from the truth. I don't know how I dare to say the next words, but I do.

"It must be very fragile, if a handful of berries can bring it down." There's a long pause while he examines me.

Then he simply says, "It is fragile, but not in the way that you suppose."

"I didn't mean to start any uprisings," I tell him.

"I believe you. It doesn't matter. Your stylist turned out to be prophetic in his wardrobe choice. Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you have provided a spark that, left unattended, may grow to an inferno that destroys Panem," he says.

"Why don't you just kill me now?" I blurt out.

"Publicly?" he asks. "That would only add fuel to the flames."

"Arrange an accident, then," I say. He could certainly do it, easily too.

"Who would buy it?" he asks. "Not you, if you were watching."

I wouldn't. But that's beside the point. "Then just tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it," I say.

"If only it was that simple." President Snow runs his tongue over his tight lips. "Peeta. How is the love of your life?" he asks.

I find then that I can't hold his gaze. Peeta. Gale. I can't think about one without thinking about the other and what I have done to them both.

Good," I say casually.

"At what point did he realize the exact degree of your indifference?" he asks, leaning back in his chair with something of a smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm not indifferent," I say as firmly as I can.

"But perhaps not as taken with the young man as you would have the country believe," he says. "Who says I'm not?"

"I do," says the president. "And I wouldn't be here if I were the only person who had doubts. How's the handsome cousin?"

"I don't know ... I don't ..." Nausea takes over and I find that I can't continue. Discussing two people who I care about, who know me more than anyone else, with Snow makes me feel sick to my stomach.

"Speak, Miss Everdeen. Him I can easily kill off if we don't come to a happy resolution," he says. "You aren't doing him a favor by disappearing into the woods with him each Sunday." If he knows this, what else does he know? And how does he know it? Many people could tell him that Gale and I spend our Sundays hunting. Don't we show up at the end of each one at The Hob loaded down with game? Haven't we for years?

The real question is – do they know what goes on in the woods beyond District 12. Have they followed us, tracked us through cameras?

A thought hits me and I feel sicker than before. It's possibly even worse than my feeling in the arena with the mutts and Peeta's leg wound and Glimmer's melting body.

Does he know? Has he seen? That never even crossed my mind until this moment. The woods have always been our place of safety, our place beyond the reach of the Capitol, where we're free to say what we feel, be who we are. At least before the Games.

If they had been watching before the Games, they would have seen two people hunting, saying treasonous things against the Capitol. But not two people in love. Except now…

It only happened once. It was one moment of stupidity, and blindness, and passion but it happened.

When Peeta and I returned home from the Games, it was quite a while before I could get Gale alone long enough to have a proper conversation with him. There was celebration after celebration, cameras that stalked up for weeks and weeks on end. I had to hang off of Peeta, kiss him whenever the situation demanded.

When they finally left, the façade between Peeta and me instantly dropped. He barely talked to me or tolerated my company. But it seemed that that was how it had to be. Everything had returned to normal. Everyone returned to their daily routine - work in the mines, school, even Peeta and I not talking like we had before the Games – and it was only right that I should return to doing what I usually did. Hunting.

One morning, I just woke up, collected my supplies and took off into the woods. It was only dawn but warm enough that I could get away without wearing a jacket.

As usual, the fence was not charged and it was simple to slip into the woods and retrieve my bow and arrows. I went to our place, Gale's and mine, where we had shared breakfast the morning of the reaping that sent me into the Games. I waited at least two hours. I'd begun to think that he'd given up on me in the weeks that had passed. Or that he no longer cared about me. Hated me even. And the idea of losing him forever, my best friend, the only person I'd ever trusted with my secrets, was so painful I couldn't stand it. Not on top of everything else that had happened. I could feel my eyes tearing up and my throat starting to close the way it does when I get upset. Then I looked up and there he was, ten feet away, just watching me. Without even thinking, I jumped up and threw my arms around him, making some weird sound that combined laughing, choking, and crying. He was holding me so tightly that I couldn't see his face, but it was a really long time before he let me go and then he didn't have much choice, because I'd gotten this unbelievably loud case of the hiccups and had to get a drink. We did what we always did that day. Ate breakfast. Hunted and fished and gathered. Talked about people in town. But not about us, his new life in the mines, my time in the arena. Just about other things. By the time we were at the hole in the fence that's nearest the Hob, I think I really believed that things could be the same. That we could go on as we always had. I'd given all the game to Gale to trade since we had so much food now. I told him I'd skip the Hob, even though I was looking forward to going there, because my mother and sister didn't even know I'd gone hunting and they'd be wondering where I was. Then suddenly, as I was suggesting I take over the daily snare run, Gale took my face in his hands and kissed me.

I was too stunned to do anything except stand there and let Gale kiss me. You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Gale-watching him talk and laugh and frown - that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands, which could set the most intricate of snares, could as easily entrap me. I think I made some sort of noise in the back of my throat, and I vaguely remembered my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest.

I wished I felt something, anything. But I didn't. I couldn't tell him that though.

"I had to do that. Just once," he whispered against my cheek. His face, rested against my own, was hot. I could feel him breathing hard against my lips; he was close, he could have easily pushed his lips against mine.

Except he didn't. His hands, buried in the top of my scalp, above my braid, slid down to my neck. I jerked my body away when he didn't move but he came with me when I stepped backward, his mouth smashing back into mine.

Gale seemed to take that as me demanding more. We fell back into the long grass, his body on top of mine. He was careful not to let his weight crush me. My hands moved to his chest as he tried to lower his lips to mine again. And he stopped, and sighed. His head reared up a little and I thought for a second he was going to cry.

"Gale." He looked back down to me. And then I yanked on his shirt hard to kiss him again.

I don't know what made me kiss him. Maybe it was the desperation in those Seam grey eyes. Maybe it was knowing that I had hurt him, much more than he had deserved, during my time in the Games. I could only imagine how he had felt seeing me with Peeta, pretending to love him, kiss him.

I wished I could take away his pain, love him as much as he loved me. I wanted to give him something that showed him how much he mattered to me. How he was one of the most important people in my world. I wanted to make up for the fact that I couldn't reciprocate his feelings.

His lips drifted away my mouth, down my neck. "I love you," he breathed into the hollow of my neck.

I held back the tears in my eyes. Why did he have to do this to me? Couldn't he just take what I was giving him?

I didn't answer, pulling him back up to me and busying our mouths, so he couldn't say anything else that killed me inside. His hands went to my hips, fingers digging into the loops of my pants. My breath hitched, and he seemed to sense my hesitation, lifting himself up to fix me with his grey eyes.

"Katniss," he said softly, catching his own breath. "We don't – nothing has to –"

I realised then that allowing his hands to roam my body, his lips to meet mine in kisses that feel as necessary as oxygen was not all I could give him. There was something else, something no one else could ever have.

My virginity.

"Please, just, just, Gale, please." I couldn't say aloud what I wanted but I hoped my eyes could convey enough.

He seemed to get the message. His fingers began working at his belt and I looked pointedly away. He sat up off of me and I heard the swishing of his pants and underwear sliding down to his ankles and settling in the grass. When he leaned down to me, he looked awfully hesitant. That was when I figured out that he was waiting for my approval to him to take off _my _pants.

Gritting my teeth, I nodded. To his credit, Gale kept his eyes on me as much as possible, sending my slacks and underwear off in a swift, blind movement. The cool, sudden air caught me by surprise and I shivered, though I'm sure my face was flaming red. Girl on fire indeed. I grimaced a little. It wasn't the most romantic setting that I'm sure Gale had imagined numerous times but hopefully it was enough.

Gale stroked my cheek. "Are you sure?"

I had to do this. For him. "Yes," I squeezed out.

Gale's body dropped until it was pressed firmly against mine. I gasped. I could feel…._him. _I had never thought about him wanting me that way nor had I ever thought about him this way.

He stopped. "Are you okay?"

I nodded quickly, blinking back a few tears. Gale kissed me, and I kissed him back for the first time. Perhaps he was hoping to distract me. But it didn't work. I still felt the sharp pain below my stomach as he entered.

"Katniss," he crooned in a soothing voice. I buried my head into his chest so he couldn't see my face. As he moved, I gripped his shoulders through his thick shirt. I was glad we'd left on our top level of clothing; I wasn't sure I was ready to handle that kind of intimacy yet.

Gale's breathing picked up. The knot in my stomach simply grew and I thought for a crazy second, I might vomit. I was no stranger to pain, but that didn't mean I didn't feel it. I had never become accustomed to this kind of pain before. It was an entirely new ache.

This was for Gale, Gale, I chanted as he shifted slowly inside me. When he suddenly rocketed forward, deeper than he had been before, I let out a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a gasp and a cry.

Gale stopped. "Katniss?"

I supressed the 'no' inside of me. "Keep going," I urged him, my voice muffled against his body.

It seemed Gale needed no further pushing because his pace picked up again. I kept my face hidden in his clothes, a few tears leaking from my eyes. I heard his heartbeat, pounding like a jackhammer and it was so familiar, almost like my own. I could pick it out from almost anywhere I was sure.

The pain began to dissolve slowly until it was almost….pleasurable.

I had underestimated the knot in my stomach.

A tiny moan escaped my lips. My hands reached around to Gale's back and I dug my fingernails into the soft material of his shirt as hard as I could. I hadn't expected this. The pleasure I mean. It was for Gale, just for Gale and yet I found that I couldn't deny the intense feeling building within me. Gale shook above me, sprinkling me with sweat.

And unexpectedly, I was fighting to breathe and panting just as he was. I was a mockingjay, floating through the sky, hanging above our heads. I was soaring. Gale held me in a grip that was almost painful and for a fleeting second, I tried to imagine our lives. I would look after our child while Gale worked in the mines. He would come home, covered in soot and smiles. He would try to kiss me and I would run away, laughing about getting dirty. He would chase me around the kitchen, wrapping me and our kid up in a huge hug, and we would collapse on the floor in a fit of giggles.

And then it was over. All of it.

Gale began to suck in as much oxygen as he could and I lied there under him, trying to put myself back together. He slid out of me, fixed himself up, and was soon standing over me, fully clothed. My pants and underwear were in his hands and he slipped them back onto me as I lay there motionless.

He helped me up and we stood there, not looking at each other for what seemed like the longest time. We were just those two children who met in the wood so long ago. Hesitant. Alone. Craving companionship.

He finally wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. Then he kissed the top of my head and I swore I heard him whisper, "Thank you."

I closed my eyes and he let me go. When I opened them, he was gone.

Despite the fact that the sun was setting and my family would be worried, I found myself unable to walk home, sore and numb. I collapsed after a few steps by a tree that was close to the fence.

It was difficult to discern all of the feelings inside of me from one another. Did I love Gale? Maybe. But could I love him in the way that he wanted? Could I love him enough to marry him, spend the rest of my life with him?

The answer, I was almost certain, was no. I had no previous experience to compare the – my mind stuttered over the word like it was a forbidden, not to be talked about subject – but it didn't really matter. It hadn't been about pleasure or desire. It was about a love, a pure, simple love that didn't need titles.

Finally I went home. That week I managed the snares and dropped off the meat with Hazelle. But I didn't see Gale until Sunday. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I needed to say. But in the end I didn't have to say a word. Gale acted as if it had never happened. But I had a feeling that it wasn't by choice. I think he knew that I had done it for him, and he probably knew that I might never be able to give him the love he needed, that he deserved. But he probably hoped that this experience, that these fleeting moments might make me change my mind one day.

But no matter how Gale tried to pretend, no matter how he tried to smile at me and joke as easily as we had, I couldn't meet his eyes the way I used to. I couldn't stare at him too long without seeing his grey Seam eyes roll back into his head as he came.

This all flashes through my head in an instant as President Snow's eyes bore into me on the heels of his threat to kill Gale. How stupid I've been to think the Capitol would just ignore me once I'd returned home! Maybe I didn't know about the potential uprisings. But I knew they were angry with me. Instead of acting with the extreme caution the situation called for, what have I done? From the president's point of view, I've ignored Peeta and flaunted my preference for Gale's company before the whole district. And by doing so made it clear I was, in fact, mocking the Capitol. Now I've endangered Gale and his family and my family and Peeta, too, by my carelessness.

"Please don't hurt Gale," I whisper. "He's just my friend. He's been my friend for years. That's all that's between us." I'm lying. I'm lying. "Besides, everyone thinks we're cousins now."

"I'm only interested in how it affects your dynamic with Peeta, thereby affecting the mood in the districts," he says.

"It will be the same on the tour. I'll be in love with him just as I was," I say.

"Just as you are," corrects President Snow.

"Just as I am," I confirm.

"Only you'll have to do even better if the uprisings are to be averted," he says. "This tour will be your only chance to turn things around."

"I know. I will. I'll convince everyone in the districts that I wasn't defying the Capitol, that I was crazy with love," I say.

President Snow rises and dabs his puffy lips with a napkin. "Aim higher in case you fall short."

"What do you mean? How can I aim higher?" I ask.

"Convince me" he says. He drops the napkin and retrieves his book. I don't watch him as he heads for the door, so I flinch when he whispers in my ear.

"By the way, I know what happened in the woods." Then the door clicks shut behind him. And I am on fire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I don't move for a while. Moving seems impossible. Breathing is even harder. Every breath scrapes down my throat until it feels raw. My hands are so tightly wrapped around the arms of my seat that my wrists begin to ache. There is so much blood rushing to my head that I can't even see straight. Everything is blurry and cluttered.

"Katniss?" My mother's voice cuts through my haze. My whole body loosens and when my head turns to the doorway, there is a smile on my face. A fake, phony smile and it practically kills me to stretch my lips apart and curve the corners of my mouth up.

"Yes?"

"Is everything alright?" she asks, her hands wrung together. I can see how scared she is for me and I must do everything I can to keep her mind at peace. I must not worry any more than I already have. I cannot put more people at risk.

"Of course, just a regulation visit," I say cheerfully. "I think I need a bath."

Relief floods my mother's face. "Of course, I'll run it for you."

Ten minutes later, I head upstairs to the bathroom where the ceramic bath tub is filled to the brim. I dip a finger into the water. It is warm, on the edge of scalding hot. An enticing scent wafts upward from the water and I know that my mother has added some kind of perfumed oil to it. It takes all of my control to reach my whole arm in, drain the tub and refill it with cool, tepid water.

But I have had enough of the heat. I am smoldering inside. My body has turned to ashes. I need relief.

I sit on the floor while I wait for the tub to refill. I close my eyes but I can't keep them closed too long. I keep seeing Gale's eyes and Peeta's lips and hearing Snow's threats ringing in my ears. How he talked about so easily dispensing of Gale and even Peeta and my family if I cannot convince everyone that I love Peeta Mellark, the baker's son from District 12.

I finally lower myself in and my teeth lock together as the cold races up my skin, drawing goosebumps. I stretch out as much as I can and lie back, my head resting against the rim. The water keeps me frigid, alert. It cannot draw me into a lull and make me forget about my problems. It cannot make me forget that I have put one more person in danger with my carelessness.

What was I thinking with Gale? How could I have been so stupid to think that no one would find out? I'm practically a celebrity, the face of the Games, recognised from anywhere. Anyone with half a brain in district 12 would know that Gale and I disappear into the words each Sunday and reappear with game.

I allow my brain to draw back over the memory – Gale's heavy breath, his fingers running along my skin, lips kissing parts of me no one has ever touched…..

I begin to have an attack when I connect this memory with President Snow's snakelike eyes.

I lurch myself half out of the tub and grab the coarse cloth my mother uses to clean the coal off the tiles with – she has left it on the bench, no doubt after having scrubbed the bathroom clean – and begin to wash myself with it. It is far too rough for human skin but I do not care. I must scrub harder. I must get the dirt off me. I must get the mark off, the one his eyes have left on me.

Only when I feel a burn flash across my arms do I realise that I have still been scrubbing my arms for at least ten minutes. I have scrubbed so hard that I have taken off a thin layer of skin. I have drawn blood.

The cloth drops limply from my hands into the water and I lift my arms up gingerly. Red droplets drip down and fall into the water, one by one until I am sitting in red tinted water. In a panic, I try to scramble out but I slip back down and my head sinks underneath the water.

My first instinct is to struggle. But I find that it's nice in the water. It blocks out the rest of the world and it is only me. Only me.

I think about just letting go. It would be easy now to just let the water take me, to stop breathing. Prim and my mother could live off my earnings and even if The Capitol found some way to take them away, Gale would protect them. Gale. He'd find someone, someone who could give him what he needs, what he deserves. And Peeta. He deserves someone who can see how kindhearted he is. How rare a human being he is. And surely, someone would someday see that. And Haymitch. He wouldn't have to put up with me mouthing off at him and arguing. They'd all be better off, wouldn't they?

I don't have any more time to contemplate the reason of my existence.

Because there are hands cupping my face and lifting me from the water and back up into life. My lungs explode with oxygen and I blink rapidly; it takes a while for the water to drip from my eyes.

"Are you out of your mind?" I cough and splutter on the water that has clogged my throat. The hands around my face are warm, and I relish this warmth. But it is quickly taken from me. The hands leave and I feel a towel drape itself around my shoulders.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, my ice cold fingers clinging to the towel. Some of my sense has returned to me and I'm vaguely worried about being naked. The water slowly shrinks around my body and I can hear it being sucked down the drain.

Peeta's blue eyes flash angrily at me. I could count on one hand the times that Peeta has ever been visibly angry or hurt. Right then, I know I am in serious trouble. "Please tell me that you just fell asleep and that that wasn't on purpose," he says.

I don't look him in the eye when I say, "I fell asleep."

I hear him sigh and I know right then I am off the hook. Peeta cannot stay angry at me for too long. "Let me help you up."

Despite my vulnerability, I let him help me, all the while keeping the towel tightly clutched around my shivering body. Peeta leads me out of the bathroom towards my bedroom and I catch sight of Prim passing us, through the wet strands of my dark hair that shroud my face.

"She just fell asleep in the tub Prim," Peeta says in that affable tone of his. The one that makes anyone who listens to him automatically believe everything he says.

"Be careful Katniss," she says and with that, Peeta half drags me to my room. I collapse on my bed and Peeta immediately hovers over me.

"Get dressed Katniss," he says in a tired voice.

I sit upright and I find most of the water has cleared from my brain. I feel more like myself. "What are you doing here Peeta?" I ask instead, ignoring his words.

"The train arrived early, to take us for the tour. I came over here to warn you they were coming and your mother told me you were in the bathroom. I knocked several times and you didn't answer. I got worried." His eyes glaze over my body covered only in a soft cotton towel and he turns bright red. "I didn't mean to pry."

I wipe my wet, tangled hair from my eyes. I can't be mad at him for intruding when he technically saved my life. I sigh. Just when I thought I had repaid my debt to the boy with the bread, he goes and does something like this. I will never stop owing him, will I?

Strength returns to my voice when I answer. "Grab me those clothes on the chair."

Peeta obliges automatically, lifting up a white long sleeve top and a fancy pair of snug black pants that Cinna gave me. After all, I have to look presentable in front of The Capitol. He lays them on the bed and exits. I finally remove the towel and it is then I see the grazes down my arms. I'm not bleeding anymore and the grazes aren't too bad looking but they will need to be covered, hence the long sleeves. I dress myself as quickly as I can but leave my damp hair cascading down my back, knowing Cinna will have something better to do with it than I do. When I open the door, Peeta is standing there, waiting for me. I notice his eyes flicker down me. Did he notice the off colour of the water or see the burnt off skin on my arms?

"What?" I say and we lock eyes for a moment. There is a challenge in my eyes – say it Peeta. Go on, say it. I dare you.

"Nothing," he answers. His brief anger and concern for me are gone and back in its place is the same coolness that has separated us since we got home.

He doesn't have time to say anything else because my prep team come running down the hallway and practically push Peeta out of the way to envelop me in hugs. I see him watching me still from my doorway.

"Katniss," Venia shrieks. "So good to see you!"

I nod and smile as they prattle on but I soon realise they are tearing at my clothes. On instinct, I push them away. All three of them stop, surprised at my unwillingness. It's not like they haven't seen me naked before. It's not like they haven't seen every part of me.

But now there are scars on my arms that I cannot explain. That I do not want to explain.

"Is everything alright Katniss?" Flavius asks, cocking his head of orange corkscrew curls to the side.

I freeze. There is no excuse I can think of that will serve. After all, I am not one for words. Peeta is.

He's staring at me and perhaps he can see the fear in my eyes because he steps forward and clears his throat. My prep team all turn their heads and begin to fawn all over Peeta, as if just noticing he is there. He entertains them with compliments naturally but before too long, he has stepped through them to me.

"You'll have to excuse me but I'm afraid I've given you a problem to deal with," he says to them with a small smile.

Before I can stop him, he is lifting up my arms and showing them the grazes. Venia, Octavia and Flavius all lean in at once to examine them.

"You see, I brought Katniss to my old home to see where I grew up and meet my parents. While we were there, she offered to help me feed the pigs. But as she was slipping them food under the wire fence, she hurt herself." He shook his head, as if remembering the fake memory and trying to clear it from his head. "I don't think I've ever apologised so many times in my life."

At once, they all begin to cluck and tell Peeta that it's not his fault and that they're not that bad and they can easily cover them up with makeup if necessary. Peeta says something and I hear them share a laugh but I don't hear the words. I've tuned out.

He's done it again. Saved me I mean. I wish for once that he would stop helping me but then I can't imagine my life if he didn't.

"We'll take care of her Peeta," Octavia assures him, and I realise he is leaving, probably to meet with his own prep team so they can make him look as charming and handsome as ever.

He leans forward and I close my eyes as he kisses my cheek. His fingers brush lightly through my hair and the touch is a tad too real. It is far too genuine to be anything like the constant displays of affection that we have been parading through The Capitol and District 12.

An unrecognisable feeling churns in my guts, a strange warmth that takes over. It's just like the one that hit me in the arena, when I kissed Peeta and it made me want to kiss him again. I want this moment to be real too. I want to be in love with Peeta, because it would make all of this pretending so much easier.

Then he's gone and the feeling goes with him. And then I am at the mercy of my prep team.

After they have fixed my eyebrows, polished my skin to perfection and scrubbed me absolutely clean, they roll up my sleeves and come to my grazes. "It's lucky it's cold," Venia says. She fixes my sleeves and retrieves a comfy knitted green sweater that has the mark of Cinna in every stitch and I slip it over my top. They hand me a pair of leather boots that feel much softer than any other shoe I've ever worn.

They only apply a light layer of makeup which pleases me, and makes me feel more like myself. Soon after, they invite my mother in to do my hair. Her delicate hands work through my hair and carefully create a series of intricate braids. My prep team watches with wonder and I can see that my mother is mollified by their praise and has taken an instant liking to them.

When they are done, they tell me to go downstairs and I see Cinna waiting for me. I rush towards him and he hugs me as tightly as I hug him. Cinna is one of the few people I feel that I can trust. It feels good to see him again. To see him, gold eyeliner and all, gives me a big enough distraction to forget about Snow and Gale.

He shows me the designs he has drawn up, that I will pass off as mine. They are exquisite, drawn with a hand that could never be mine. Not that the world has to know that.

The next hour passes in a blur. The camera crew arrives and I show them the sketches I have supposedly drawn and read off the cue cards that Cinna has provided. I try to inject as much enthusiasm as I can into my voice but I know that my words are generic and bland. Not that they seem to notice. I see Cinna looking at me, and is pointing to his mouth and making a 'smile' gesture. I do my best but he doesn't seem fooled. Neither does my mother. She frowns and I make an effort to appear more than half-hearted.

By the time we get the train, I feel queasy. I know I need to tell someone about my confrontation with Snow. My mother and Prim would just worry and I have worried them enough. It would just make Gale angry, the thought of Snow knowing what had happened between us. It might even be enough to get him killed. Telling Peeta in our current situation is just a plain bad idea. He's smart enough to know we have to keep up our charade and I don't want to tell him anything about Gale.

Which leaves Haymitch.

Peeta, Effie, Cinna, Peeta's stylist Portia, Haymitch and I sit down at one of The Capitol's usual extravagant dinners. I sit there, prod at my food and try to swallow as much as I can. But I still cannot the shake the confrontation of the morning. Effie carries most of the conversation in her ridiculous Capitol accent but she seems to be the only one really interested in talking. Peeta, like me, is quiet but even he is able to put on an easy smile and jest about. Haymitch takes to the alcohol like a duck to water and only ten minutes into the meal, he is slurring his words and chucking about poor jokes. Cinna and Portia smile politely and open their mouths when needed but mostly, I see Cinna just staring at me. He catches my eye every now and then and smiles at me and I try to smile back. And then I remember Snow and I feel even sicker.

When darkness falls, everyone heads to bed. Peeta kisses my cheek goodnight and I retreat to my bed. Not that I sleep. I lay awake for hours until I am sure everyone is asleep. Then I wrap a robe around my silk pajamas and head down towards Haymitch's room. I know he will be not be asleep, maybe passed out but not asleep.

Sure enough, when I knock on his door, he appears at the door, looking haggard but relatively awake. There is a bottle of whiskey hanging from his left palm.

"What do you want Everdeen?" he asks with a hiccup. I can smell his breath from where he stands and it nearly knocks me out.

"I need to talk to you," I say. He waits for me to continue but I am hesitant. After this morning, I have no doubt that Snow has bugged the train. How can I tell him without actually telling him?

Just as I open my mouth, the train jolts. A capitol attendant roaming the hall informs us that we are only stopping for fuel. Haymitch tells him that we are stepping out for air and he offers to accompany us but Haymitch waves him away. He stumbles out into the snow and I pick him up.

"Okay, out with it," he says as he wipes snow off his pants.

Though it feels like my throat is attempting to close over, I tell him about Snow, and his threats. How I cannot fail. I even tell him about Gale. Not all of it though. It seems impossible to say those words out loud. I simply pass it off as a kiss.

"So don't fail," Haymitch says in a somber voice, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"It's not that easy," I tell him. I sigh, making deliberate footprints in the snow. "But you could help me get through this –'

Haymitch grabs my arm and a flare of pain shoots through me. I grit my teeth because I'm not supposed to be hurt.

"You have to understand Katniss. It's not just this. It's not just this trip. It's not just this one time."

I stare at him because I don't understand. Or I do understand but it's just too hard to take.

"You'll never get rid of the cameras or the Games. You'll go back every year and Peeta will be by your side. You'll live happily ever after, you have to."

I break away from his grip and vomit into the fresh snow. Haymitch groans from behind me. It's not fair, any of it. All my life, the one thing I had when we didn't have anything was the freedom to marry who I wanted, to be who I wanted to be. Every single choice is being taken away from me, whether I like it or not. I am The Capitol's puppet. I will do what they say.

Because even if I wanted to be with Gale, even if I changed my mind, there is no future for us. If I want us to live, I will have to marry the boy with the bread.

"Katniss." He actually sounds like he cares when he says my name like that. I feel his hands on my back and I flinch away from his touch. Haymitch caring is too much to handle. I leave him in the snow and I run back inside the train all the way back to my room. I don't even bother to be quiet about it, my steps thundering on the carpet.

I'm only a step inside when Peeta appears right in my doorway, like he has been waiting for me to return. His face is lit by the moonlight and it makes his blue eyes sparkle.

"What are you doing?" he hisses.

"None of your business," I answer back, trying to close my door on him. If he wants to treat me the way he has, then I don't see why I have to be nice to him. Still, I feel bad at my rude words.

Peeta forces himself in and closes the door. "Why did you do it?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask, though I know what he is going to say before he says it.

"You told me you fell asleep Katniss. You lied to me."

My eyes flicker to the ceiling. I wonder if he knows we are possibly being listened to or watched. I wonder if there is a way I can warn him before he says something incriminating. "I didn't –"

"I saw your arms. I saw the blood." He struggles to control the level of his voice. "Were you…..were you trying to…."

I know what he is alluding to. He is asking if I tried to kill myself. And even though I considered it, I say, "No. No, of course not." He doesn't look like he believes me but I plunge on. "I'm fine Peeta. Really."

Peeta takes my hands in his and squeezes them tight. "Don't lie to me again Katniss," he whispers.

It's a promise I know I can't keep. And yet, I still say, "I won't."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

My sleep is restless that night. I am consumed with images of Peeta. Fractured dreams of a future we have no choice to share. We live in the Victor's village, and there is a blue eyed, dark haired little girl running around our feet. Her younger brother, a blonde haired, grey eyed sits on Peeta's lap. I stand at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. The little girl tugs at my pants, asking me to play with her but I shake my head. The Games have destroyed me. My eyes are empty, my face drawn. Even Peeta's voice is lower, and weary. I cannot look at him or our children because it is just a reminder. Of what we have done. Of what they might have to go through one day because of us.

It is then that I wake up, dripping in sweat, tangled in my sheets. I can tell that it's still early and that I have a few hours before Effie comes to wake me up. But I still get up out of bed because I don't want to fall asleep again.

When I leave, I make sure I am quiet. Peeta's room is only a few doors away and I'm scared he will see me awake and insist on hovering by me when all I want to do is be alone. I know that like me he never sleeps. Like me, he is tormented by nightmares.

I reach one of the dining carriages and to my relief, there is no one up yet working. I make myself a cup of hot water and add syrup and honey to it until it is overly sweet. In District 12, we don't get these kinds of luxuries so whenever I am on one of these Capitol trains, I try to make the most of it.

I sit back in one of the booths and roll up the window shades. Shallow light creeps in and I lose myself in the sight of what must be the countryside of District 11. There is a sheet of snow that covers everything and the sky is grey and murky.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

I jump at the voice but to my relief, it's only Haymitch. He looks like he has just rolled out of bed. His dark hair is a mess and there are large bags under his eyes. He immediately heads for the table of coloured liquids and I narrow my eyes at him. I am the most understanding when it comes to Haymitch's alcoholism but it's not even 7:00 in the morning. There must be some boundaries.

He sees my objection and with a sigh, puts the bottle he picked up back down. "Jeez Everdeen, the things I do for you." He takes a seat opposite me and runs a hand through his hair. "You gotta put it out of your mind today. Focus on what you can do and not what you can't."

I don't say anything. We sit there for a while and just watch as the train enters the heart of District 11. When the clock ticks over 7, Effie and Peeta enter the carriage. Effie looks her usual, bright self but Peeta looks as tired as Haymitch and me. But he's had time to make himself look a little better, combing back his blonde hair and dressing himself in a nice pair of dress pants and a fancy long brown coat. He sidles in next to me without a word and one of the attendants that have just entered automatically make him a hot chocolate. He takes it with a nod and begins to sip it slowly. It's one of the things Peeta has become truly fond of since we first arrived in The Capitol, so much so he has it every morning. As Effie runs over the protocol for the day, the real breakfast arrives. Stacks of golden buttery toast and flaky cakes that dissolve in our mouths. A tray of fresh bakes muffins and a pot of orange juice. Haymitch holds his head in his hands and I can see it's not just his hangover giving him a headache. My stomach rumbles at the sight of the food and within minutes, I have devoured a few cakes and a glass of juice. But then I am feeling sick so I refuse any more, even when they try to persuade me with some of my favourites. It's not long before my prep team comes and collects me, taking me away from breakfast to fix me up. They show me the gorgeous orange gown I will be wearing today. It's beautiful, it really is but I can't help thinking that this dress is probably worth more than someone in District 11 makes in a year.

There are long sleeves on it, made of delicate lace and my grazes are invisible underneath thankfully. Flavius brought out a small bottle of skin coloured liquid at one point, ready to cover them up but Octavia talked him out of it, telling him it would only make them sting. They do my makeup and arrange my hair how my mother showed me. Then they leave me for a bit, and I sit down on the floor of the bathroom, gazing up at my dress, covered in only a robe.

I could grow to love Peeta one day. I know this for certain. I think back to the kisses that made me want more and then I know that it is inevitable that Peeta and I will grow back to being with one another. But I am haunted by the images from this morning. I realise there is a difference between willingly falling in love with Peeta and being open to a future with him and being forced to marry and procreate for the sake of The Capitol. If it is not my choice, we will surely become those people with the empty eyes. Our forced marriage would destroy us.

The door creaks open but I don't even look their way. I know before who it is before they have sat down. The heavy tread of his mechanical leg gives Peeta away.

He slumps down beside me and we sit in silence for a moment. Finally he says, "It's a beautiful dress. For a beautiful girl."

I hate when Peeta says stuff like this. He always has to be so noble and kind. When he speaks like this, the guilt surrounding my betrayal with Gale grows larger.

"What do you want Peeta?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. I don't that many friends that I can afford to push away the people who actually care about me.

"Effie was wondering where you were." He sits next to me on the bathroom tiles and together we gaze up at my gown that hangs from the light fitting. "I wanted talk to you. If you'll let me."

I stay quiet and he takes this as me allowing him to go right ahead. His hand brushes over mine and I jump, my gaze finally meeting his.

"I don't want us to be like this Katniss," he says. "If we can't, if you can't – " He looks away. "Then let's just be friends. It'll make it easier for us to do this charade. I want you to think of me as someone you can trust, as someone who cares about you. Can you do that?"

I nod, losing myself in those blue eyes of his. I want to tell him about Snow, even about Gale. I want to apologise for lying to him in the Games, for putting him in danger by what I have done. But I can't. It would just hurt him more.

"Good," he answers. He stands up with difficulty, his mechanical leg making things hard for him. He's at the door when he looks back not at me but at the dress. "You're going to look amazing in that." And then he leaves me.

* * *

><p>"Breathe Katniss," Peeta tells me as he rubs my back comfortingly. But it doesn't seem logical – breathing that is. The sound of the bullet being released into the back of that man's head keeps ringing in my ears. As soon as we came inside, I rushed to the bathroom to throw up. Now I'm standing over the kitchen sink, trying to drink the bottle of water Peeta handed me.<p>

How many more deaths will I be responsible for?

"It's because of what we said, isn't it?" I whisper to him.

"Because of what I said," he corrects. His hand leaves my back and I hear his footsteps retreat. The smashing of glass makes me rear my head up.

Peeta is pacing and I can see the remnants of a vase he has chucked around his feet. "You should've told me," he thunders. "You two can't do this to me anymore. You can't keep things like this from me."

I look across the room at Haymitch who seems only mildly surprised at Peeta's outburst. He raises his eyebrows at me as if to say 'Your move Everdeen.'

Peeta storms over to me, grabbing me by the shoulders. "You promised you wouldn't lie to me."

I look everywhere but at him. He shakes me until I finally meet his eyes. His eyes are shining with tears. "Please Katniss. I'm trying to be your friend. I'm trying to make this easier and I can't do that when you won't even be honest with me."

"I'm sorry," I say, my words almost inaudible. He just sighs in frustration and lets go of me. I collapse into a chair. He's right of course. When is he not?

It was only the first stop of the tour. It was supposed to be relatively uneventful. We were supposed to read the usual spiel, stick to the comments that Effie had written. We were supposed to start convincing Panem (and Snow) of our love. We were not supposed to get people killed. We were not supposed to start uprisings.

Once we came inside, I started to hyperventilate while Peeta comforted me. Haymitch explained the situation to Peeta whose confusion made way to anger. I couldn't blame him could I? I had promised him honesty. And yet I had lied. Haymitch and I had kept him out of the loop. Again.

"What do we do now?" Peeta finally asks. I know that he is addressing Haymitch but he is looking firmly at me.

"We sit tight," Haymitch says. He gulps down the last dregs of his drink – we've only been inside for a couple of minutes and already he managed to grab some alcohol.

Effie enters at this point and she looks more on edge than usual. Haymitch notices it too and is quick to question. "Give us the bad news then."

"Snow has called off the tour."

I rocket out of my seat to face Effie. "What – what are you talking about?"

Even Haymitch is confused. He sets his glass down. "That's never happened before."

Effie simply shakes her head and drops the clipboard she carries around everywhere into a nearby bin. For the first time, I actually feel sorry for Effie Trinket. She got stuck with us in the first place, and now her time to shine, a tour conducted underneath her instruction, is gone. But while that part of me feels regret, the rest of me is still processing this information.

Snow has called off the tour. He has seen what happened in District 11 today and fears what will happen if we keep the tour going into other districts. In his eyes, we have failed before we have even started. Which means everyone, including me, is in that much more danger than we were before.

I stare at Haymitch, hoping he can tell what I'm thinking. I'm thinking about my family and Gale. I'm fearing for their safety. I hope Haymitch can understand me like he can most times.

He does. He gives a sigh and nods at me, heading into the other room to send a call back to District 12 to ensure their safety.

Effie does her best to perk up, grabbing both Peeta and me. "Let's get back on the train okay. Get some rest and see what happens."

With little resistance, we let her lead us back to the train. She tells us that she is going to nurse the terrible headache she feels coming on and leaves us in the dining carriage. It's still early but I decide to go to bed. To my surprise, Peeta follows me to my room.

"What are you doing?" I ask him wearily.

He motions to the bed. "Lie down." I do and he sits down next to me. Despite myself, I snuggle into his side. He wraps his arms around me and I feel my lack of sleep catching up with me. Marrying Peeta will not be so bad I tell myself. Peeta is my relief. He is my safe harbour.

"We're gonna be okay," he says, stroking the top of my head.

When he says this, I almost believe him.

* * *

><p>I must have dozed off because when I open my eyes, it is much darker than it was before. In his arms, I was unharmed by nightmares. But he is no longer next to me. I run my hand over the sheet and the place he once occupied. I can hear the low buzz of a television down the hall so I climb out of bed and travel towards the noise. Effie, Haymitch and Peeta are sitting in front of the television, their eyes practically glued to the screen. I swear, none of them are even blinking.<p>

"What's going on?" I ask, fixing my gaze on the television. One of The Capitol advertisements is playing and the anthem is blaring in the background.

Peeta turns around to look at me but he is the only one. No one answers me. I frown, waiting a little longer but they still are not speaking. Finally Haymitch coughs.

"They just aired an emergency broadcast in The Capitol."

"And?" I know already that it's bad. I know that and their silence speaks louder than anything they could say. But I need some kind of literal answer. Before I snap. "And?"

No answer. "Peeta?" Still nothing. "Effie?" Even Effie doesn't have the heart to speak. Her lips are pursed and her knuckles are white from gripping the remote in her hands. She looks more frazzled than I have ever seen her.

"Haymitch please." I know Haymitch will tell me. He has never been one to sugarcoat things. His hand is poised in the air, holding a broken glass. I can see he has smashed it against the table, the liquid once inside it dripping down the table legs.

"They've moved up the Games. The Quell will be held in five days instead."

So we only have a short time to prepare ourselves and the tributes we will be mentoring. That's bad but it still doesn't explain the frozen, sad expression on their faces.

He finally looks at me and his eyes are bloodshot. "They're only reaping existing victors."

It takes me a while but I connect the dots.

Only past victors will be going back into the games. A male and a female. Haymitch or Peeta.

And me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

I run to my room before anyone can stop me. I slam the door behind me and lean against the door, breathing hard. This can't be happening. I've served my dues. Snow organised this so he can get rid of me. But in doing so, he's put Peeta in severe danger.

My hands clench into a fist and I reach for the first thing I can. It turns out to be the lamp on my bedside table. It smashes against the wall and I feel a tiny bit better. I hear a knock on the door and a small voice saying, "Katniss?"

I ignore it and make for the bed. I rip the sheets and pillow off the bed and throw them on the floor. The door opens and I know Peeta is standing in the doorway. "Katniss," he says again.

I don't listen to him. I proceed to destroy everything I can get my hands on. Everything in here belongs to The Capitol, to Snow. I must destroy them. I must destroy them.

"Katniss, stop," he pleads and I feel his hands grab at my waist. I don't go down easy. I thrash and I kick against him and my heel makes contact with the hard metal of his mechanical leg. I'm sure it hurts me more than it hurts me but I can't stop.

"It's okay Katniss, it's okay," he murmurs into my ear. Tears stream down my face and I have a headache so bad that it's almost blinding. I feel a sharp jab above my elbow and the effect is instantaneous. My head droops forward and everything becomes a blur. I open my mouth to curse who I think is Haymitch, but nothing comes out. And I am dragged under.

* * *

><p>I wake up thrashing still but I am restrained to a bed. My bed. I am at my home back in the Victor's Village. There is strap around my waist keeping me confined to the bed. It is too confining, too restricting and I hate it. It causes more panic in me and I struggle harder.<p>

"Relax sweetheart," says Haymitch. I look up and he is sitting in the corner. For once, there is no drink in his hand.

"Get me out of here," I order.

Haymitch shakes his head. He stands up and comes to stand by the bed. I have a limited range of movement but I'm pretty sure I could move enough to scratch his eyes out if necessary. "No can do. Not until you promise not to do that again."

"I promise nothing," I spit, yanking against the strip.

"Don't be stupid Katniss," he says gruffly. "You can't go around destroying Capitol stuff like that. Do you want to give Snow even more reason to kill you?"

"It doesn't matter," I say, shifting into a sitting position. "I'm already dead anyway."

Haymitch sighs and leans over, undoing the straps keeping me in place. I leap up at once and find out that someone has taken off the clothes I was wearing on the train and placed me in just my underwear and a robe. I walk straight over to my chest of drawers and pull out a pair of old slacks, a singlet and a thick jacket. I look at Haymitch and raise my eyebrows. "Do you mind?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes. "I'll turn around. Hurry up."

He does and I quickly fling my robe off and slip the clothes on. When I'm done, I clear my throat and he turns back around with something of a smirk on his face.

"Where is Peeta?" I ask him.

"Back at his house. He's insisted we start training like Careers. He seems determined not to let you die." His words bring me back to the situation we find ourselves in. I know that there will be only one victor this time. Snow will not let both of us live after last time. "You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him you know."

I ignore his last sentence – that's a truth I've known for a long time. "I don't care what he's determined to do," I say, straightening my jacket. "We save him this time."

Haymitch doesn't say anything, simply folding his arms behind his back. I can see the reluctance on his face and I grab him by the shoulders. "Promise me," I say. "Promise me you will help Peeta this time."

He sighs. "He won't let me. You know that Katniss. You know he's already asked to me help you."

"I don't care," I say fiercely. "Please."

Finally he nods. We leave my room and head downstairs where my mother and Prim are waiting.

"Katniss, you're awake!" Prim cries. She launches forward and I don't hesitate to take her in my arms and hug her so tight it hurts both of us. My mother is soon around me too, hugging my back until I'm sandwiched between them.

"I'm sorry," my mother whispers. She strokes my hair and I notice it has been freshly braided, something my mother must have done while I was knocked out. I look at Haymitch over Prim's shoulder and he taps his watch and nods to the door. I nod back and he exits silently.

I do not cry in my family's arms. I simply ask, "How long have I been out for?"

"The whole day," Prim replies. She explains how the train got in this morning and they carried me back to the house. "It was so scary, seeing you like that. We thought something had happened."

I have lost a whole day? Whatever they must have injected me with must have been stronger than they expected, otherwise they wouldn't have wanted me to lose a day when there are so few of them left.

"I'm okay Prim," I tell her. But only for now. "I have to go meet Peeta okay. But I won't be long." They finally let go of me and I realise just how frozen my hands are. There is a pair of warm knit gloves that Cinna gave me in a drawer upstairs and I bound back up there to grab them. I am just pulling them onto my cold fingers when I hear a rustling noise. I widen my feet and bend my knees into a defensive, fighting stance but relax when I see Gale holding onto my window sill.

"What are you doing?" I hiss at him, running to the window and helping him inside. He falls onto my floor with a groan.

"I had to see you," he croaks.

"And you couldn't use the door?" I say as he picks himself up.

He looks at me with almost a grin on his face. "Too easy," he answers. But then his face turns serious and sad and I dread what is coming next. He brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm so sorry."

I can't hear his sorry. It's much too hard. I close my eyes and it's then I feel the pressure on my lips. I open my eyes and Gale has taken hold of me and is kissing me as forcefully as he can. I back up and he moves forward until I am pressed against the door, his body tightly wound around me. His hands make for my waist and his lips fall down my neck almost sloppily, like he's afraid I'll be taken away at a moment's notice.

I lift my own hands and push against his chest. He doesn't seem to get the message though, mistaking it for passion.

"Gale, stop," I plead. He does, falling back in surprise at the begging in my voice. I try to recover against the door, breathing in as much as I can. It's been a month since that fateful day in the woods and I still have trouble recouping and putting myself back together after moments like these with Gale. It feels like all I do is split apart when I'm with him; torn between the person I must be for Peeta and The Capitol and the person I was with Gale before the Games.

I run my hands through hair. I can't do this. Not now. Not when I am going back into the Games and I am expected to marry Peeta and Snow is threatening everyone I care about. It is too much.

I'm sorry Katniss," he whispers. He practically falls over his feet trying to get back to the window but I snatch at his shirt and stop him.

"I didn't mean it like...it's not that…..just – you mean so much but...just don't be mad at me Gale." My sentence is a stuttering mess but I hope he understands.

He holds my gaze with his grey Seam eyes. "I could never be mad at you." He kisses my cheek and hauls himself out of my window, crawling back down the side of my house, the same way he came.

You will be though, I think. You'll be mad when Peeta proposes to me and I say yes. You'll be mad when I marry him.

I hurry out of my room when he is gone and run down the stairs, straight to Peeta's house. The door is already unlocked and I enter to find Peeta and Haymitch sitting at the kitchen table, nibbling at some of Peeta's bread. Each has a cup in their hand but I know that Peeta's is only filled with water. I can smell the alcohol from Haymitch's cup. I sit down at the table and join them. Peeta silently offers me some bread but I decline with the shake of my head. I can't keep much down these days.

"We were just discussing on when to start training," says Haymitch, draining his glass in one. He swipes at his mouth with his hands and continues. "Peeta suggested tomorrow as we can't really afford to waste time now can we? That alright with you sweetheart?"

"Fine," I reply softly. Peeta's gaze hasn't left me since I walked in but I don't look at him. I can't. "Anything else?"

"That's all Katniss," says Peeta, and I back my chair up and leave. I'm halfway to my house when I hear his voice call out after me.

"Wait up!" I do, pausing to kick at the coal stained snow. Soon, I hear Peeta's rapid breathing and heavy footsteps. I let him catch his breath before I speak.

"You shouldn't have let them do that me," I say, referring to the way they drugged me and dragged me from the train back to my home.

"Hey you did it to me once," he says in a light tone, "So I guess we're even."

I remember the way I slipped him the sleep syrup but that was to save his life. "Yeah and if I hadn't, you wouldn't even be here."

"I guess I'm sorry then. It wasn't my idea though. I just didn't want you to hurt yourself, like last –" Peeta looks away, leaving his sentence very much unfinished. I know he refers to that moment – the one where he found me bleeding and kind of drowning in the bath.

I don't feel like talking anymore. I want to go home and curl up in bed, and forget that yesterday ever happened. And in four short days, I will be back in that arena of nightmares.

So I turn around, leave him there in the street and head back home. But his voice draws me back again. "I know what you're planning," he says. I stop dead but I don't turn around. I'm interested to see where this is going. "I know what you're doing. And I won't let you."

Ah, so he's worked out that I've already gone to Haymitch with a plan. Of course he knows. It's because it's the same thing he'd do for me. I let out a cool laugh. "How are you going to stop me?"

I hear a few of his loud footsteps and figure he is retreating. I begin to push forward again and then I am flung against the side of my house. Not hard but firmly enough. Peeta's furious face looms before me. It's the second time someone has pushed me against the wall in the last ten minutes. But I'm more surprised than I was with Gale because this is Peeta. This is warm, gentle, overly kind and loving Peeta, and he has the same maddening glint in his eyes that he had on the train when confronting me over the grazes. I begin to wonder if the Games have altered him as they have me.

"If you think I would ever let you die for me, then think again," he whispers angrily. His whole body is pressed up against mine. I could easily fight him off, kick him off balance but I'm not uncomfortable in this position like I was with Gale. It almost feels….right.

I blink and realise Peeta might be waiting for a response. "I won't stop trying to save you."

Peeta heaves a huge sigh. "I have my reasons for wanting to keep you alive. I'm in love with you damn it. Why do you want to save me?"

Words rush out of me before I can control them. "Because you don't deserve to die. Because you're the most selfless and kind and wonderful person that I've ever met. Because you saved me with the bread."

Peeta lets go of me, backing away slowly. He shuts his eyes and I hear what could almost be considered a laugh from his lips. "All of that, of all the reasons you want to save me, none of them are that you love me." He shakes his head with a rueful smile and begins to walk away.

I step towards him, not able to leave things like this. "I thought you said we could be friends. I thought we were okay."

He pauses and looks back at me with eyes so sad I can't bear to look into them. "I thought so too. Goodnight Katniss." And then he walks all the way back to his house, closes the door and turns off the lights.

Me, I am standing there, unable to deal with the fact that the boy with the bread is slowly slipping away from me.

* * *

><p><strong>Short chapter - could've added more but I wanted to get one out and end on an angsty PeetaKatniss moment. Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**review, favourite, let me know what you think - it would make me happy :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

When the sun rises in the sky, I am already awake. I have been awake for several hours, dressed in my hunting gear, running my fingers around the lone arrow I like to keep with me. When the clock ticks over seven, I get up out of bed. I am intending to sneak quietly out of the house to training with Peeta and Haymitch. But when I creep downstairs, my mother is cooking something on the stove.

She sees me and I wince. "You're up early Katniss," my mother says with a warm smile.

"I have things to do," I say as casually as I can. "I'm meeting Peeta and Haymitch."

My mother's smile dims slightly. I spend most of my time with Peeta and Haymitch and now that they will be my only lifeline in the games, what other choice do I have? But she seems to have difficulty with the possibility of losing me again. She knows this time my leaving could be permanent.

She stirs whatever's in her pot. "I'm making some porridge. Have some before you go?"

I don't have the heart to tell her no. I need to give her everything I can before I go. "Okay," I say. She puts a bowl in front of me and I tentatively put a spoonful into my mouth. It's thick and gooey but it tastes okay. There is a sugary hint to it that helps me digest it. I have cleaned half the bowl when I start to feel queasy. Crap. The stress is already wracking my body. First, it takes away my sleep and now my ability to eat. I try to make my way to the bathroom as slowly as I can, for surely running would give me away and prompt more questions. My mother would probably try to force feed me some kind of calming stomach brew that she gives to patients.

I just make it to the toilet, spewing out the porridge. It tastes much worse coming up and it wasn't that great before. I gargle intensely for several minutes until the horrible taste is gone from my mouth.

When I emerge from the bathroom, I walk as calmly as I can into the kitchen. I kiss my mother's cheek goodbye and head out the door before she realises I did not finish the bowl.

I knock on Peeta's door and he is already dressed and ready. Haymitch is sitting at the table behind his back, hanging his head in his hands. He doesn't look like he's used to waking up at this hour.

Peeta sees me standing there and grabs Haymitch by the scruff of his collar. "Let's go Haymitch."

Haymitch groans and grumbles and mutters generally intelligible things but he follows me and Peeta outside.

Training is brutal. Peeta pushes us hard. He's the least physically able out of us all and yet he still moves faster than us. I could catch up with him if I wanted, outstrip him by miles but I jog alongside Haymitch, who grunts and breathes heavily as we run. He is clearly suffering from alcohol withdrawal.

Peeta made him give it up, at least for the time being. I knew something was up, when Haymitch was grumpier than usual this morning. He curtly informed me that goody two-shoes Peeta had poured his whole supply down the drain last night after I left. Now, he was to shape up and do his best to help the both of us in what time we had left.

Peeta doesn't mention our conversation from last night. But I have noticed he has developed a whole new side to him. He barks orders at me, yells at me to run faster. When I uncharacteristically miss a target during shooting practice, he goes off at me.

"Alright Peeta, I get it!" I yell back at him. I know he's still angry at me and he's channeling his frustrations for me through this training. But I can't take it. I even feel tears welling up in my eyes – Peeta's never made me cry before. I don't even know why I'm crying either. I can handle yelling, I can even handle the criticism. So why do I cry?

I push back the tears and replace them with rage. I drop my bow and kick it aside and walk away from the two of them. No one follows me. I am done for the day.

The next day, I join them in the morning and neither of them says anything about my meltdown the day before. Peeta is not as harsh as he was before. He does not yell at me to run faster. He does not urge me to use my strength in weights training. In fact, he is downright quiet. He just watches me and I watch him. I want him to say something, even yell at me if that will make him happier but he doesn't.

The next day is Reaping Day. The Capitol is pushing everything through very fast because they want to get rid of me. The quicker the better. Tonight we will be in The Capitol and tomorrow the celebrations for the Quell will officially start. The procession, interviews and the training. We probably won't actually go into the Arena for another couple of days but this is it. The last time I will ever see my family and be in District 12.

Everyone congregates in the square. My name is first predictably, but my stomach still lurches. Prim's hand tightens around mine and I can feel my mother silently sobbing against my other shoulder. It takes them a while to let go of me but I feel their presence leave me. I turn around and I see Gale with my mother attached to him on one side and my sister on the other side. It's like déjà vu.

He jerks his head at the stage. "Go on Katniss." His voice breaks on my name.

I turn away from them and step forward up onto the stage. Effie Trinket is standing there with Mayor Undersee but she doesn't look as excited as she did last time. She smiles but I can tell even she doesn't want to send me back in. Then Haymitch's name is called. Peeta steps forward automatically, volunteering like I knew he would. Haymitch falls back in line and I can see him looking at me, even from where I stand. I fix him with a fierce gaze, hoping that he hasn't forgotten what he promised me. He gives a small nod.

We are whisked off the stage and I expect for us to hold our goodbyes. I purposely didn't say anything to Prim or my mother this morning, knowing I could not afford to break down before the reaping. But instead, we are shuffled to the train station, Peeta, Haymitch and me. I open my mouth, to ask what's going on but we are shoved inside. The door closes and the words on my lips are gone. The train jolts and I realise Snow has done this on purpose. Taken away my goodbyes, my home, just to break me even further.

In a reflex reaction, I grab at Peeta's hand. His grip is reassuring. But then I realise we are not really talking to each other. I can see Peeta's face contort into surprise but he still squeezes my hand tightly back.

Effie emerges from somewhere. "Let's go and get comfortable. It's going to be a long night."

I retreat to my room, and it's a different one to the one I previously destroyed. I remember Haymitch's warning to not do anything so reckless again and I curl up in the bed alone. I might've asked to Peeta to join me if he were actually speaking to me. But he's still keeping his distance. As soon as we came inside, he let go of my hand, like my touch could burn him. I know that when we enter The Capitol, we will have to continue the charade and he will have to put up with me.

Somehow I manage to fall asleep. But it seems like it's only a minute before Haymitch is waking me up. He shoves me hard and I nearly fall out of bed. "Get up," he barks.

"I'm getting, I'm getting," I mutter, standing. I feel light headed for a moment, so much so I even sway on a step. Haymitch's hand darts out and grabs mine. "Are you okay?" he asks immediately.

"Fine, fine," I mutter.

The parade has been hastily organised for tonight. We will be marched out in front of The Capitol and Snow will declare the Games have started. Tomorrow, we will have train all day in the center. The next we will be scored by the gamemakers. The day after that we will be in the arena.

When I step off the train with Haymitch, my prep team swarms down on me and takes me forward. They prod and yank at me and there is none of the light make up from the tour. They make sure that I am unrecognisable, sharpening my cheekbones and making my eyes practically smolder. I wonder what Cinna has in store for me, based on all this makeup that makes me look threatening.

There is none of their usual hyper, fast paced chatter. Instead they look as though they will cry. At one point, Octavia rushes from the room. I know they are crying because of me. Because of me and Peeta. I feel a burst of affection for them – my silly, shallow prep team, who cry at the thought of me having to go back into the arena.

Finally Cinna arrives and he engulfs me in a hug, careful not to smudge my makeup. I do not cry, because I've had enough of tears and everyone else's tears. I must accept my fate, accept I cannot change this and do my best to make sure Peeta is the victor.

"Don't cry," I order him, but the authority in my voice is muffled by his chest.

He doesn't. He doesn't even speak until he's trying to zip up the black, fitted bodysuit he's designed. It comes to life, like most of his designs, flickering like golden embers.

"That's strange," Cinna mutters.

I try to turn my head without moving my body. "What is?"

"The suit's a little tight. I made it to the measurements of all your other clothes."

"I probably put on weight in The Capitol," I say. "They force feed us most of the time." Cinna shrugs and manages to get the zipper up finally after I suck in. Now that I think about it, I didn't eat much on the cancelled tour or since we arrived today. But I shrug this off.

He applies the finishing touch to my assortment of braids and spins me around so he can look at me. "Now remember, don't pay any attention to them, okay? Act like they're completely beneath you."

"That I can do," I reply, trying to not show how uncomfortable I am in his overly tight costume.

He kisses my forehead goodbye. "Go on girl on fire. Show them what you're made of."

* * *

><p>I head down to the Remake Center, where the chariots and horses have gathered, ready for the opening cermony. When I get there, I see that Peeta and Haymitch haven't arrived. I look around and unlike last year, the tributes seem open to socialising with each other. I haven't met any of them and I'm not sure I want to. Getting to know them will ultimately make it harder to kill them. I recognise most of them from previous games though and from Flavius running through their names earlier.<p>

I stand next to the chariot that Peeta and I will use, stroking the horse's head. I hope that if I seem invested in the horse or in my own thoughts, no will bother me.

It doesn't work.

"Hello Katniss."

"Hello Finnick," I reply coolly, keeping my eyes focused on the horse's mane as I stroke it. I don't have to look up to know that the low, sensual voice has fallen from Finnick's lips.

It's not a stretch to say that Finnick Odair is the one of the most desirable people in Panem. Tall, with ruffled bronze hair and sea green eyes that no doubt have melted the hearts of many, Finnick was a living legend. One of the youngest ever victors at fourteen, he was turned into a national hearthrob. By sixteen, he was coming and going from The Capitol with a new lady on his arm every time.

If someone tells you that Finnick Odair is not attractive, they're lying. When I finally look up, to see if he's still there, I see him up close. He has teeth so white that they're dazzling when he smiles like he is right now. Hell, even I think he's gorgeous. But there's something about him that throws me off. Maybe it's the string of Capitol women.

"Did you want something Finnick?" I ask impatiently after a while. He walks around me and though I am fully clothed, I feel exposed. The way Finnick's mouth curls into a smirk and the lids of his green eyes drop a little makes me think of him imagining me naked for some reason.

"Not really," he says, stretching. He opens a hand to me. "Sugar cube?"

Finnick steps right behind me and I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. He's close. Too close. My only hope is that Peeta or even Haymitch make a quick arrival and I can get Finnick away from me.

"No thanks," I answer in mock politeness. "I'd love to borrow your outfit though."

He's wearing a fishing net strategically knotted at his groin so his outfit is basically nothing. His chest is puffed out, bronzed and muscular and I'm sure the reasoning behind the clothing choice was to allow the audience to get as much as Finnick as possible.

He snorts. "I'm sure Peeta would love that." There's an edge of sarcasm to his voice and I know then that Finnick is one of those that doubt my love for Peeta. He probably sees me through me because he's been in my position before. He knows what it's like to be in the games, to do whatever you can to survive.

I look away from him and stare straight ahead. Where is Peeta? I wish he would just show up already. It's only been a couple of minutes but I've had enough Finnick to last me a lifetime.

"That dress is…truly terrifying."

I want to ignore him but that would probably give him an mental edge on me that I will not allow. I decide to engage in his banter, even flirt a little, because I want to show him and everyone else that I will not be intimidated. I may be young still but I will not go down until I have ensured Peeta is the victor.

"You don't seem too scared," I comment, flexing my fingers.

"I'm shaking on the inside," he quips back. He hoists himself up onto my chariot and his hand ghosts over the small of my back as he passes me. I jump and he simply smirks down at me.

"Where is your lover anyway?" he asks, looking around. "He shouldn't leave the girl on fire alone. She might burst into flames." He winks and jumps down in a single, smooth movement and I wonder what caused his sudden exit. Then I see Peeta emerge from the other side. I hop up onto the chariot and offer him my hand. I help him up since his mechanical leg makes it difficult for him to do it by himself.

He's wearing a matching outfit and his blond hair has been slicked back elegantly. I swear they've put some makeup around on his long eyelashes because his blue eyes are practically popping out of his face.

"What did Finnick want?" he asks.

"He wanted to offer me a sugar cube," I say flatly. "And his outfit if I ever wanted it."

Peeta leans over the railing of the chariot, searching the room for Finnick. His face splits into a grin as he looks back at me.

"Not such a bad idea actually," he gets out with a laugh.

I am quick to elbow him firmly in the gut. "Peeta!"

He dissolves into a laughing fit, clutching at his stomach, and a much gruffer, lower chorus of laughter joins him. I look down and see Haymitch standing near Peeta's feet, leaning against our horse.

"Shut up Haymitch," I say automatically, though I'm smiling. It seems everything's back to normal. Or is just an act for the Capitol? I hope not. I hope Peeta's realised our time is short, and that we shouldn't waste it fighting with each other.

"Oh relax sweetheart. It was a compliment," he says, patting the horse. "Now remember, no smiling, no waving." In a lower voice, he says, "Just pretend you hate The Capitol."

"No pretending here," I mutter as I take Peeta's hand. We weren't given an instruction this year to hold hands but considering I am planning to give my life up for him, I do it without hesitation. And he doesn't say anything.

When it's finally over and we are back in the training center, we can relax. Peeta drops the hard expression from his face and softens into his own appearance. I catch sight of Haymitch conversing with the tributes from District 11 but I am too tired to join them. Attendants herd us toward the elevators and we hop in. The door starts to close before someone jumps and joins us at the last second. She's a tribute I recognise, one from only a few years ago who won by pretending she was a weakling. She fluffs up her short, spiky brown hair and smiles when she sees us. It's a smile I don't believe.

"Ugh," she groans, tearing off her leafy headdress. Being from District 6, the lumber district, her stylist's inspiration clearly was to dress her up as a tree. She rips a couple of leaves that hang off of her silver dress before slipping out if completely. My eyes widen and I look away instinctively. I see Peeta's eyes bug out of his head and I want to hit him again.

Johanna Mason, the female tribute from District 6, who I've never had any contact with in my whole life, has just stripped down in front of Peeta and I. And when I say stripped down, I mean that there is not a single stitch on her body except for her thin, skin coloured scandals.

"Stupid dress," she says, prodding at it with her shoe. "My stylist is an idiot." She looks my way and I feel rude not looking back at her. But I make sure I keep my eyes on hers. "Cinna's a genius. Wish I'd gotten him."

"Yeah, he's good," I say casually. I'm not the best socialiser normally and Johanna being naked is only adding to me being even more uncomfortable.

Johanna doesn't say anything to me after that. She spends the whole elevator ride talking animatedly with Peeta while I keep my eyes drilled ahead. I try to tune out as much as I can but I hear pieces of their conversation. Johanna rags on the District 1 tributes and the dress Cashmere was wearing. Peeta talks about the desserts in The Capitol and about his frosting skills. This brings a smile to my face. Peeta must see it because he slips his hand in mine.

Even when Johanna steps off, Peeta doesn't let go of my hand and I don't let go of him. He's all I have left of District 12, of my family and I want to hold onto him as long as I can.

"Considering you're the love of my life," I say sarcastically, "You could have least pretended not to stare at her the whole time."

He chuckles softly and I am glad that the tension from our days of training seems to be gone. He still hasn't let go of my hand when he leans over to whisper in my ear, a move reminiscent of Finnick. "Jealous?"

"No," I respond but I am jealous. Even if Peeta's not really mine, he's supposed to be. And there's that whole other side of me that doesn't know how to work out what I feel for him.

He straightens. "You know I never see other girls." I know he's telling the truth. He said as much when we were in the cave, that no matter how many other girls he looked at, none of them stuck with him like I did.

The elevator door opens and we are greeted by a tense looking Effie and an awfully relaxed Haymitch.

"You guys did so good," Effie says with a tight smile. "You should rest up. It's gonna be a big day tomorrow." She tries to inject some enthusiasm into her words but there's something off about her voice. Maybe the strain of these Games is taking its toll on her too.

"Head to bed guys," Haymitch says with a wave. He stumbles away down the hall, towards his room.

Peeta finally lets go of my hand and yawns. "Goodnight Katniss." He begins to follow after Haymitch but my hand darts out of its own accord and grabs him.

"Peeta?" He turns around, a mild surprise on his face. "You could…..you could stay with me tonight if you want."

I am being selfish asking him of this. I am taking advantage of his feelings for me. But I can't even bring myself to care. I need him to stay with me, because I do not want to be alone in my last moments of free will. My last moments before I become just another piece in these Games.

Like I knew he would, Peeta agrees. And I take his hand once again and lead him to my room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I wake to Effie Trinket pulling the curtains open and practically blinding me. I half-fall out of bed, clutching at the sheets.

"Rise and shine," she greets brightly, oblivious to my disgruntlement. I rub my eyes and look to my left, wondering why Effie hasn't berated me for having Peeta in my bed yet. But he's not. He must have disappeared in the course of the night, fearing this very possible reaction from Effie.

I follow her out to the dining room, where Peeta and Haymitch are already digging into breakfast. Peeta looks up when I enter and there is a smile on his face. I automatically sit next to him and he grabs my plate before I can, ladling it with my favourite foods.

Haymitch is muttering feverishly, stabbing his toast with a fork repeatedly. Peeta leans over to me. "He's a bit upset. Effie threw his last bottle of white liquor out the window."

I cover my mouth I'm too late; a laugh escapes and Haymitch's head spins in my direction. I avoid his glare, fixing my own eyes on my hot chocolate. Beside me, I can see Peeta grinning widely.

After we've finished, and I've managed to keep most of my breakfast down, we head down to the training centre, where will spend all day preparing. Peeta and I are the last ones to arrive.

"You should go mingle, make some allies," Peeta suggests.

"Why me?" I whine, "You're the people person. Everybody hates me."

"They love you," Peeta corrects. "Now, go. Be nice." Peeta leaves me and automatically heads to the camourflage station, where the morphling tributes are painting pictures on each other. I decide I might as well head to shooting practice, considering I have nothing to hide. They all saw me shoot in the last games and it's a while since I hunted – the morning Snow showed up in my house – so I need the practice.

As soon as I pick up a bow, Finnick is hovering beside me. I want to tell him to go away but he offers to give some tips. I don't really like the idea of taking tips from Finnick Odair but he has been around the Games longer than I have. And Peeta's suggestion to make some allies rings firm in my mind.

So for the most of training, Finnick doesn't leave my side. He teaches how to throw a trident and I give him tips on shooting. He's not bad with the bow but I find it hard with the trident. It's heavy and hard to lift over my shoulder. When I throw, it dips badly and lands in the waist of the practice dummy. Finnick retrieves it with a condescending smile. He stands on his mark, bends his knees and throws. He makes it look effortless but I know it's not. It spears right through the head of the dummy and Finnick grins back at me. I don't want to smile back so I look away, though inside I am impressed.

I catch Peeta watching us from the camouflage station and he has an odd grin on his face. He jerks his head towards Finnick and back to me, and I mime punching Peeta. He just laughs and goes back to his painting. The morphling tributes are standing next to him, watching him with wonder.

Next we do the knot tying station which Finnick easily masters as well. I watch him with jealousy, as his long, large fingers move swiftly and delicately. It takes me several tries until I can do one half as good as his. Finnick Odair is starting to seriously annoy me.

I finally shake him when I head off to find Peeta. I see him lifting weights with the Careers, Gloss and Brutus. Finnick's partner, an old woman from District 4 called Mags, grabs me by the arm and shows how to make hooks and baskets. From a distance, I watch Johanna throwing axes at a practice dummy. The dummy's severed head falls to the ground in a loud clang and I shudder; is Johanna imagining beheading me?

At lunch, I pile my plate so much that even Peeta stares at me suspiciously. "What?" I say defensively.

"Nothing," he answers, filling his own plate. We sit down at a table in the corner by ourselves, hoping no one will come bother us. But as in the remake center, I have no such luck.

"May I sit here?" Finnick asks. He doesn't wait for an answer though, sitting opposite Peeta and I and flashing a dazzling smile. The way he talks with Peeta is like they're old friends. I shovel food into my mouth, to make sure I never have to say something. Mags hobbles over after a while and sits on Finnick's right. She offers me a gummy smile and I smile back. Mags is probably the only person I don't have a problem with here. She doesn't talk much, and when she does, it's garbled, so I don't have to worry about her talking to me.

Johanna slides in on Finnick's left after a while and I curse under my breath. I haven't been fond of Johanna since the elevator ride. Minutes later, Chaff and Seeder take residence at the end of the table. It's like we're the popular table, I realise. Everyone wants to be our friend, or ally really.

When I have licked my plate clean, I feel sick. I have eaten much too fast, just to get away from having to speak and I excuse myself from the table. Peeta watches me with curiosity but doesn't say anything. I head to the bathroom and find that the sick feeling is quickly passing. I splash my face with water, bend over the sink and control steady my breathing. When I lift my head up, Johanna Mason is standing behind me. I stare into her reflection off the mirror in front of me. I wonder for an irrational second if she followed me.

She stares at me for a long moment and I snap. "Did you want something?"

Her lips form a snarl. "Nothing 12." She kicks open one of the stalls and slams the door behind her. I leave the bathroom with my own slamming door. I do not like Johanna Mason. I will not regret putting an arrow in the back of her head.

The rest of training passes like a blur. I manage to keep a hold of Peeta after lunch and we spend most of the day passing through the stations together. When we return back to our rooms, we are both so spent that we barely say a word during dinner. Peeta heads to my room without me even asking and we collapse on the bed and instantly fall asleep.

The next day is even busier. We are woken up early again, at the crack of dawn, to get ready for our private training session with the Gamemakers. Peeta and I are sitting in the hall with Effie, waiting for a very long time. Finally Peeta is called in.

"Good luck," I mouth. He just gives a jerky nod back before disappearing inside the grey steels doors. Then it is just me and Effie, who has the decency not to run her mouth off. Then a mechanical voice calls 'Katniss Everdeen' and Effie gives me a reassuring push.

As soon as I enter, I know something is very wrong. The Gamemakers are sitting huddled close together. They look rattled, and I wonder what Peeta has done. They deliver me death glares that trace my movements across the floor and I am worried for Peeta. I have to do whatever I can to keep him alive and his case will not be helped if the Gamemakers are not on his side.

An idea forms in my head and soon I am dragging the practice dummy from the side to the centre of the room. I grab a piece of rope, and try to replicate one of the knots Finnick was so easily tying yesterday. When I do, I hang it around the neck of the dummy and dip my fingers into the jumble of red paint left over.

In bright red letters, I write 'Seneca Crane.' Then I turn to the Gamemakers. "I'll see myself out." With a bow of my head, I stride right out.

* * *

><p>Effie isn't too happy when I explain what I have done. Haymitch and Peeta smile though. Peeta tells me how he painted a picture of Rue dying with the flowers I placed on her body. Outside, I praise him. Inside, I am silently cursing him. He is throwing his life away with both hands and there is nothing I can do about it.<p>

We are given an hour to rest before they announce the scores, and then we will be sent to our stylists to get ready for the interviews tonight. The Careers and Finnick post typically high scores. Johanna also gets a decent score and the others are usually midrange or quite low like Mags and the morphlings. As they get to District 12, I wonder if anyone's ever been given a zero. Then both Peeta and I are flashing up on screen with a neat 12 next to our names.

Haymitch sighs. "Stupid, both of you."

"Why did they do that?" Peeta asks him. I realise the answer and open my mouth before Haymitch can.

"So that the others have no choice but to target us," I fill in. There's a dreadful silence as Haymitch gulps down his full glass in less than five seconds.

"Get out of my sight. I can't look at either of you," he grunts, standing up and leaving. I hear him knock over a few things as he goes to his room. Effie gets up soon after and it's only Peeta and me sitting there.

"I do stupid stuff all the time," I say to him with a smile. "What's your excuse?"

He laughs. "Come on, let's get some rest before the interviews."

* * *

><p>I blank out during most of the interviews. Everyone tries to hijack Peeta and I's star crossed lovers angle for themselves. Johanna talks about the rules having to be changed, to prevent such situations as Peeta and I having been thrown together again. When it is my turn, I try to act like speaking will kill me. Like I am so choked up at the thought of losing Peeta. Which I find, it is not hard to act this way.<p>

"I'll do anything to save Peeta," I told him. "Even if it means my own life."

"I know," Caesar says, bending his head and kissing my hand just as the bell rings for the end of my interview. As I sit down, I pass Peeta on my way to the stage. I want to know what he's thinking but his face is unreadable.

"It must be hard," Caesar said almost sadly as Peeta sits down, "knowing you'll never be able to spend your life with Katniss. Marry her."

Peeta pauses, hands folded over his knees, staring off into space. I wonder what he's thinking. Finally he turns to Caesar. "Not being able to love her for as long as I want to is, very difficult." He heaves a sigh. "But, really Caesar," he looks around as if to make sure no is listening, which is preposterous with the audience hanging on his every word, "I have to tell you. We're already married."

The audience spins into chaos. Squeal and howls and sighs at the odds never being in our favour. But I am not all too surprised. I knew Peeta would try something like this, to milk our star crossed lovers even more and convince Snow and the Capitol that we are truly in love.

Peeta goes on to explain how the marriage isn't really official but to us, it is. He talks about the toasting, our special ritual in District 12 for those getting married. The cameras spin to me and I try to look as enamored as I can, with a hint of sadness, gazing strictly at Peeta.

"Well then, at least you got experience some married bliss," Caesar says gently. "That's something to be happy about."

"Well it would be," Peeta says angrily, slapping his hands against his thighs. His voice is bitter when he speaks next. "If not for the baby."

My hands clench into fists by my side. He's done it again. Made the audience forget about every single word of the tributes before him, all just to save me. He's made me pregnant with his child.

If the audience was emotionally charged before, now they are positively crazy. They refuse to settle down, even when Caesar asks them to. So Peeta just climbs down from the stage and walks back toward me, his face a little uncertain.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks. I shake my head and take his hand. I can't be angry at him when he's just given the world a reason to save me. Because if I'm pregnant, the girl on fire, it makes me much more valuable. They can't let me die when I have a child within me. Not one of the star crossed lovers from District 12 who has been through so much.

All at once, something seems to happen down the line of tributes. Finnick takes hands with both Mags and Johanna, and Johanna takes the hand of her district partner. I take Chaff's stump in my hand as he offers it to me, and suddenly we are standing together, linked as one. This is our stand against The Capitol. They can send us back into the Games but they cannot separate us. They cannot tear us apart.

Then the anthem is playing so loudly that the audience is drowned out. Capitol workers crowd around us and push us towards the exits, breaking our chain. I lose Chaff next to me instantly but I grab Peeta's arm with both hands and clutch him so tightly I cannot lose him. We are escorted back to our level and we enter to find that neither Haymitch nor Effie has returned yet.

I head to my room, getting changed out of my dress and into a soft, loose nightgown that is much more comfortable. Someone knocks on my door and I tell them to enter. Peeta does, changed into a pair of satin pajama trousers and skin tight singlet.

"Go on," he says. "Yell at me. You know you want to Katniss."

I give a shallow smile back. I should, but I don't. Instead I say "I'm sorry."

Peeta frowns. "That was unexpected."

I laugh softly. There's so much I want to say. So much I need to say. "I'll never get the chance to say any of this again. I'm sorry for pretending to love you during the games. I'm sorry for lying to you about Snow. I'm sorry for everything I've done to you –"

Peeta cuts me off with a kiss and I'm so surprised, I keep my eyes open the whole time. His eyes are closed though, his long beautiful lashes pressed against his cheeks.

When he pulls back, he brushes the side of my face. "Stop saying sorry. I don't have any right to be angry with you. You saved my life. I can't get pissed off just because you don't feel the same way about me that I feel about you."

"I just didn't want to go into the arena with you mad at me."

"I'm not mad," he replies. He sits down on the edge of the bed. Then in a weary voice, he says, "After all, I love you don't I?"

"Do you?" I ask. After all I've done to him, I wouldn't be surprised at all if he no longer did. If he didn't, I might be able to tell him about Gale.

"I don't know how you can even ask that."

"Show me then," I say bluntly. This is the last time either of us will be alive and alone together, without any cameras, without anyone else. Just us. I might as well make the most of it.

Peeta sits there dumbfounded. "Excuse me?"

I launch myself onto my knees and he pulls back a little. "Show me that you love me."

I force my lips against his and he falls back into the bed. My act at spontaneity doesn't come off as well as I had hoped. His head smashes back into the headboard and I fall into him.

"Peeta! Oh my god, Peeta are you okay?"

He groans loudly, his eyes fluttering. Oh my, I've given him a concussion. This is the worst attempt at seduction in the history of the world. "Katniss?" he says weakly. He sits up, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm okay."

I bury my face in my hands, hoping to hide my mortification. The one time, I try to reciprocate his feelings, I hurt him. Curse my inexperience.

"I'm fine Katniss," he says, rubbing my back. "Maybe just leave the romantic moments to me huh?"

I finally look at him again and he's smiling. I lie back down next to him, wrapping our legs within each other's. "You wanna tell me what that was about?" he says.

I don't know honestly. I just know I don't want to be alone. "Do you need an answer?" I ask, craning my neck to look up at him. "Can't you just, just kiss me? It's our last night."

He ponders this, looking down at me. He knows that it's too difficult for me to work out what I feel for him and Gale. But will he be taking advantage? It's not taking advantage if I let him.

I roll on top of him, pressing our mouths together and running my hands greedily through his hair. The old Katniss, the girl who doesn't know anything about this kind of love or boys or any kind of intimacy, disappears. I have left her behind. With Gale.

Gale. I break away from Peeta's lips and lift my head into the air. It's not possible to be with one without thoughts of the other poisoning me.

"Katniss?" Peeta says quietly. I look down at him and I know – now is the time. I should tell him. I need to tell him about Gale before anything happens.

But I don't. Instead I lower my lips back to his and swallow all the voices and doubts in my head. I don't know if I love Gale or Peeta. Maybe I love them both. Or maybe I'm too damaged to love either of them. I just know that on my last free night, on the last night on earth that I will ever be just me, I need to be with Peeta. I cannot be alone.

There's a knock at the door and I sigh into Peeta's mouth. I run a finger across his bottom lip. "You probably shouldn't be here."

"We're married and pregnant," Peeta says with a grin underneath me. "Nothing we haven't done already." I roll my eyes at him and we both get up. He's probably right considering we are supposed to be unofficially married with a baby on the way. But I still make sure he's hidden in the closet before I open the door.

It's Haymitch. "You okay sweetheart?"

"Yeah why?" I ask.

"Heard noises, thought you fell off the bed or something."

I hide my smile. Actually it was the sound of Peeta hitting the headboard very hard but that's not something I need to tell him.

"Did you want something in particular Haymitch?"

"No, I – I just wanted to check on you."

I narrow my eyes at him. Haymitch doesn't 'check in' on me. Ever. "Seriously, what's up?"

"I thought you might do something stupid," he says with a grin. "You know, one last defiant act to the Capitol."

"I wouldn't dare Haymitch," I say in a light, mocking tone. "I'm an angel."

"Sure you are Everdeen." At this, I realise Haymitch hardly ever calls me by my first name. Maybe because that's too familiar, and if he allows himself to care, he might just feel what he's been so long trying to block out with alcohol. As he goes to leave, he throws words over his shoulder back at me. "Can you please make sure Peeta's back in bed by morning? Wouldn't want to cause a real accident you can't take back, would you?"

I wince, my whole face reddening. The door shuts and Peeta reappears, his blonde hair disheveled. He moves towards me and takes me gently in his arms. "He might be right," he whispers.

"Yeah," I breathe back. "Probably best not to – complicate things." We stare into each other's eyes and he reads my sentence as I predicted he would. We know we're not coming out alive, at least not both of us, so isn't it best to just let it go, not get caught up in what we might be if we had the chance?

Besides, Haymitch's warning is ringing in my ears. An 'accident I can't take back'? Not hard to read into that one.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Sounds….like a plan."

He kisses me hard and long and I know I will not survive the night without him. "Stay with me?"

He smiles and leans in again. I just hear the whisper pressed into my lips.

"Always."

* * *

><p><strong>The games are starting next chapter !<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Ahh Games are starting. Short chapter. But wanted to keep it on a cliffy, kind of :P anyway lots of people reviewed last time which was awesome. If you wanna find out what happens next, you know what to do...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7 <strong>

**Games**

It's the morning of the Quell. I have barely slept. Sleep seems like an impossible concept. Sleep is where the mutts ravage my body, where Rue dies in my arms – where Snow's eyes find me, no matter where I am.

Peeta has been awake with me for most of the night but he finally dozed off, albeit unwillingly, a few minutes ago. It's very difficult to watch him sleep at night. His face contorts, like he's in pain, and he whimpers. He says my name, like it's a prayer, over and over again. I have to wake him after a while, because although I know he needs his rest, I cannot bear to see him in such anguish.

When I look across my pillow at him now, he's face is unusually calm. Maybe his mind is simply too weary and fatigued to conjure up an image that would have him begging me to save him.

"Katniss." The name spills out of his mouth, just like any other time. He rolls over and eclipses me with his arms and I lie there rigid. In Peeta's arms, I feel a lull. I cannot fall asleep. I do not want to fall asleep.

When Effie comes barging in, ripping open the curtains and telling the two of us to get off each other, I realise that I fell asleep.

"Up, up," she shrieks in her high toned voice. Behind her is Cinna and Portia, come to take Peeta and I away. I untangle myself from him but I find that I don't want to let go of Peeta. I know that I will see him soon, that I will have more moments with him before I die but my throat is dry, and my heart is hammering. It takes a light kiss from Peeta and his gentle touch to get me to pry my fingers off of him.

Cinna takes me to the Launch room, fitting me into this year's outfit – a thin blue jumpsuit and bright purple plastic belt. He slips them over my simple undergarments and together we try to work out where I could be going. The jumpsuit won't protect against the rain or wind, maybe not even the sun. It seems they really are determined to get rid of me quickly.

After a while, Cinna senses I do not want to keep talking. Cinna holds my hands in his and occasionally tries to force some food into me. But I can't bring myself to choke down anything. I feel sick enough on an empty stomach, and it's hard enough trying to keep no food down.

The clock ticks down and I am standing up. I am moving. I am stepping onto the plate. I am watching Cinna disappear behind the glass tube. I am ascending into the arena.

All I see is blue.

* * *

><p>I look around, and see Peeta a few plates away. I try to catch his eye but he's staring nervously at the water. When the countdown finishes, I launch off the plate into the water at my feet. I allow my natural instincts to take over. My father taught me how to swim when I was younger. There is a pond in the woods, where we could stay for hours at. It was our special place.<p>

I push the image of my father out of my mind as I swim for the Cornucopia. Unlike last year, I plan to have my hands on my weapon from the first day. No more running and hiding. I pull myself onto the sand, and luckily, there seems to be no emerging threats. But as I clasp a golden bow in my hand, I see out of the corner of my eye a body, tall and bronze.

Finnick is leaning casually against the Cornucopia, his trident hoisted on his shoulder. He seems relaxed but I can tell by the tight grip on his weapon, he's sizing me up. "You sure you're not from District 4?" he asks with a small smile. "Never met anyone who isn't from my district that can swim like that."

"I have a big bathtub," I say carefully. My bow is hanging in my hands, locked and loaded. I wonder if I am quicker than Finnick. If I could send my arrow through his brain before he spears me with his trident. Just as I am anticipating my next move, Finnick holds out his hand.

"You may have a big bathtub but you need me 12." I don't need Finnick Odair at all. But I can see Peeta in the distance, standing on his plate hesitantly and I know he is struggling. I can't waste time with Finnick.

"Fine, fine," I yell. We hear footsteps coming and we both go on guard. Cashmere and Gloss make for the Cornucopia, Brutus and Enobaria behind them. Brutus barrels towards me and Finnick, obviously to keep us distracted while the rest grab supplies. I let an arrow fly and he uses his belt to dodge it. Gloss comes at me from the side and Finnick throws his trident. Gloss ducks but it still catches the side of his leg. Cashmere takes him by the arm and they flee. Finnick and I stay where we are. We can't get caught up in a chase.

I look across the way to Peeta. His plate is slowly sinking down into the water and I can see he's panicking. I have to get him. Finnick seems to read my mind, throwing his arms out to stop me. "I can do it," he says. His eyes lower to my stomach. "You shouldn't exert yourself too much."

Oh right. Because of the supposed pregnancy. I nod and Finnick takes off, diving into the water. Now that he mentions it, my body is feeling a lot more tired than usual. My muscles are aching, and I can't believe the swim took that much out of me.

I raid the weapons at the Cornucopia and take what I need. I know no one is near. The Careers have already split off and formed their own pack as expected. The rest are either trying to find their way to land or battling on the other side. Mags is swimming towards me right now and I can see she will be joining our pack too, something I have no problem with. Though I'm not too fond of the idea of allies, I wouldn't mind extending the invitation to District 3's tributes Wiress and Beetee. I met them only briefly during training but they were softly spoken and smart. I could handle them in more than small doses unlike most of the pigheaded victors. When Finnick returns with Peeta, I almost ask him to retrieve them as well. But they are too far away; I can't even see Beetee.

"Hey," Peeta says with a smile, taking me in his arms. "Seems we've picked up some allies."

"Seems so," I say wryly. But as far as allies go, Mags isn't too bad. Finnick, I'm still unsure about. There's no doubt having him on our side is a benefit but I'm already dreading the moment when I will ultimately have to kill him to make sure Peeta wins.

"We've got to get away from here," Finnick says, looking over our shoulders. I lean out of Peeta's embrace and grab my bow. I hand a knife to Peeta and a spare pouch of arrows and bow. Mags insists on taking an awl from the weapons I found at the Cornucopia.

We walk until the sand finishes and woods begin. But they're a different kind of woods to what I know. The earth beneath our feet is black and soft with moisture, making it harder to move as quickly as we would like. The trees are unfamiliar to sight and the air is thick with heat; I've sweated through my jumpsuit already.

Peeta leads the way and I insist on taking up the rear, because even though Finnick is the strongest, he is carrying Mags with one hand and his trident in the other. My bow is at the ready and I could easily shoot down anyone who tried to come at us.

When we have walked a mile, Finnick requests a rest, though I feel it is for Mags's benefit than his. Still, I don't fight him. I'm just as exhausted and my stomach has begun to ache with hunger and dehydration. My legs have dissolved into jelly. The sun beats down on us and I find myself slowing down very quickly when we start moving again. Even Finnick notices. "Are you okay Katniss?" he asks, pausing. Up ahead, Peeta and Mags keep walking.

I lick my dry, cracked lips. Dehydration is already getting to me but something else is wrong too. Maybe I caught an illness in the Capitol. Or maybe the lack of food combined with no water is slowly killing me.

"Fine," I pant. "Maybe you should take up the rear." He does so without another question, waiting for me to walk ahead slowly before he starts moving again.

Painstaking minutes pass. I am close to collapsing when Peeta's knife swings out and slashes at some vines. Everything then happens much too quickly.

There is a short, sharp zapping sound – the most horrible sound ever – and Peeta is flying backwards, the scent of crisp flesh filling our nostrils. He lands with a heavy thud and I'm by his side within seconds. I run my fingers over his mouth and I can feel no warm oxygen being expelled. "Peeta, Peeta, are you okay?"

Peeta's eyes are closed. I bring my hand down his chest and there is none of the steady rise and fall that I have come to know. I press my ear against where his heart should be. I should hear the stable rhythm of his heart beating. But I hear nothing. There is nothing but silence underneath my ear.

"Peeta!" I scream, ripping it from my throat, not caring how loud I am. Peeta cannot be dead. The words 'Peeta' and 'dead' are simply not synonymous with each other. I shake him, hoping I can stir him but he is limp in my arms. "Wake up Peeta! Please."

Finnick is beside me in a flash, Mags resting against a tree not too far away. "Let me," he says, pulling me off Peeta's body. I watch as he studies Peeta for a second, then pinches his nose shut.

At first I think Finnick is trying to kill Peeta, finish him off. I lurch toward him, ready to hit every inch of him I can reach but Finnick seems to sense this and shoves a hand out, pushing me back. I fall back heavily and I cannot bring myself to get back up. Then Finnick lowers his mouth to Peeta, like he's kissing him, and I frown.

But he's not kissing him. He's breathing oxygen into Peeta's lungs. I've seen my mother do this before, when a patient's heart temporarily stops beating. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. I just hope Finnick knows what he's doing. He seems to know. His hands move to Peeta's chest and he begins to pump, hoping to restart his heart with the force of his hands.

I watch as Finnick continues his ministrations, pumping Peeta's chest with a very set rhythm, alternating to breathe into his mouth. Minutes pass and my chest shakes with the sobs building up within my body. He's dead. He's not coming back. I have lost him. I have failed. Salty tears spill down my face until I can barely see. Everything is distorted into blurs of colour.

I cannot lose Peeta. I cannot lose Peeta. I cannot…..

There is a sharp, excruciating sensation in my lower abdomen. Is this just the pain of dealing with Peeta dying? Or I have I been shot by another tribute?

I don't want to look away from Peeta, and his lifeless, unmoving body. But I have to because out of the corner of my eye, I can see a flicker of red. I look down.

Blood is trickling down my thighs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Another kind of short chapter but I wanted to get one out so you guys wouldn't be left hanging. It's been a busy weekend with Easter and my 18th but I managed to squeeze this one out so enjoy!**

**p.s check out my other hunger games story 'real or not real'.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

My first instinct is to look for the wound. Have I been shot from a tribute nearby?

I lift my head and there is no one around us, no other sound other than the furious beating of Finnick's hands on Peeta's chest. I feel lightheaded and maybe that's the dehydration or the unidentifiable wound but I find I can't even crawl back to Peeta's side. Not even when his eyes open and he takes a sharp inhale. I can only double over in pain, waiting for it to pass.

Finnick leans back and looks over at me, a triumphant smile on his face. But it quickly disappears when he sees the red down my legs. He practically trips over his feet getting over to me. He looks down and quickly looks back up. "Lie down," he instructs urgently. I'm too weary to fight him. I drop to my side and he pushes me onto my back. I find that it's hard to keep my eyes open. They open and close many times between the voices in the background.

"Mags, can – can you do something?" I hear Finnick whisper. Do something about what? Me? Why am I bleeding?

The reply is garbled and almost unintelligible but I hear a distinct 'no'.

"Katniss?" It's Peeta's voice next. Then his head is hovering over me and he's pulling my head into his lap and stroking my hair. "Finnick, what happened?"

No answer. Just silence. I look up into Peeta's blue eyes and in the shimmering light that hangs above us, they reflect a little grey.

Grey. Grey Seam eyes. Gale. Thoughts rush inside me head. Gale. The woods. Snow. Gale. His mouth. His voice. The woods. Gale…

Peeta looks down and meets my gaze. His eyes lower and he frowns. It seems in the exact same moment, both of our breaths catch in our throats. He reaches out a tentative hand and touches my cheek.

By the time he bends down and kisses my forehead and whispers my name in my ear, I have realised.

I am pregnant.

I _was_ pregnant.

The mood swings – me refusing to train with Peeta and Haymitch, chucking a fit on the train.

The constant sickness – vomiting nearly every morning, unable to keep any food down.

The outfit Cinna designed not fitting right - I was just over 2 months pregnant without even realising it. Or maybe I did and I just pushed those thoughts and feelings down because they were impossible to consider, unnecessary to think about when I had to focus on convincing Snow and saving Peeta.

He's silent then for the longest time. It feels like nothing is happening in the world. Mags and Finnick are as far away as they can be without deserting us. But they are unmoving, statues out of respect, weapons ready for any attack. Peeta is just holding me in his arms and I have to sit up a little. I am fixated on the growing pool of blood in my lap. I am having a miscarriage. I have lost my baby, Gale's baby. One who might have had our grey eyes and dark hair.

I have to keep reminding myself to breathe, but my mouth is so dry, and the air is so hot that it's hard. And then a sob escapes my mouth. And then another. And then I am shaking uncontrollably, so furiously that even Peeta cannot hold me still in his arms.

When he finally speaks again, it's not what I expect.

"It's okay Katniss," he says, and his voice is so heavy and sad that it sets off another round of grief marred howls. It is not _okay_. He should kill me now, drive a knife right through my heart. I promised him honesty and last night, I practically threw myself at him, all the while being pregnant with someone else's child. And now, he has seen me for who I truly am. A selfish, heartless human being who doesn't deserve a wonderful person like Peeta. He knows that there is only one other person besides him who I would trust and be with in the most intimate way. He knows that the baby is – was - Gale's. And yet he's telling me it's _okay?_

"Don't you dare," I growl In between my tears. "It's not okay. It's – it's not –"

"Shhh," he whispers, clutching me tightly against his chest until I cannot speak anymore. I want to tell him I had no idea. I want to tell him that I didn't lie to him. I want to tell him that I wish it had been his, because it would be so much easier, made so much more sense. But I can't, not with the world watching. I cannot tell him how sorry I am, how much he means to me. How much I regret being with Gale. I know the audience will be as much of a wreck as I am now, thinking that I really have lost Peeta's child. Maybe they will show them the unfairness of it all.

I think of Gale watching this back home. Gale realising that I was pregnant with his child. Gale flying up in a rage at The Capitol for having me taken away from him. Gale being punished by Snow. And this sends me off into another crying fit.

Peeta holds me until I can stop, until I have stopped the hysterics. He helps me up shakily and I won't let go of him. I cling to his clothes, remembering how he very nearly left me only a few moments ago. I could have lost more than Gale's child.

"We should get her to the water, clean her up," Peeta says mechanically. His voice is entirely devoid of emotion, so unlike the Peeta I know. I hold onto his eyes with mine, though he won't even look at me.

Finnick shakes his head. "The bloodbath is still going on. It would be suicide going back there. Let's find somewhere to set up and then we'll look for water."

Peeta's the one who technically died and yet he has to help me along when we start walking again. We hold on to each other, taking tiny steps until Finnick finds a place to set up for camp.

Finnick volunteers for the first shift as guard with Peeta to relieve him later. Neither of them ask me and I don't even care. Peeta helps me lie down and he gets down next to me. But he is careful to keep his distance and it's all I can do to keep from crying again. I have lost him, I know I have. He will never forgive me. He breaks a leafy branch off a tree and puts it over me for cover. I am uncomfortable in my soiled jumpsuit. But I cannot bring myself to argue that I need to get out of these clothes. I cradle my stomach and rock myself to sleep. There's a myriad of emotions inside me. I don't know if I feel sad, or even relieved, because children have never been a part of my future plans. I just feel….empty. I have lost something I didn't even know I had and I actually miss it.

In the middle of the night, when my eyes snap open through a flood of tears, I whisper to Peeta. "I'm so sorry. I – I just. You have every right to be angry with me." I choose my words carefully. Let the Capitol simply think I'm apologising for not beings strong enough to carry our baby. That I'm telling him he is allowed to be angry for me letting our child die. Only he will know the real meaning. And maybe Snow and Haymitch.

Peeta doesn't say anything. I want to know what he's thinking. Is he raging on the inside, screaming profanities at me? Is he falling out of love with me more with each second that passes? Can he ever forgive me?

He closes his eyes and I can see tears glistening on his eyelashes in the moonlight. "I'm sorry too."

* * *

><p>Gale haunts my dreams. I have visions of Peacemakers descending on his house in the middle of the night, breaking down the door and ripping him from his bed on Snow's orders. Bringing him to the square, putting a bullet in the back of his head…..<p>

I open my eyes, wide awake. The heat has disappeared only slightly in the course of the night but I am still covered in my own sweat and blood.

"Morning," says Peeta curtly. He kisses my forehead but I know he means none of it. He must keep up the charade for the Games. After all, I am the love of his life and I have supposedly lost our baby; he cannot turn on me.

There is a package waiting when I awake. Finnick is gently snoring a few feet away, arms wrapped around his trident but Mags is sitting upright, weaving a basket from some branches she found. Peeta opens the parachute and hands what is inside to me. It is a small metal pipe. "Do you know what it is?"

I stare at it, long and hard until the object has a name. "It's a spile. You stick it into a tree and sap comes out."

"Sap?" Finnick asks, rocketing upwards. He stretches backward and lets out a large yawn. "Why would we need sap?"

Peeta glances around. "What if sap isn't the only thing in these trees?" Finnick's eyes light up and he snatches the spile from Peeta's hand.

"Water!" he exclaims, standing up excitedly. Along with Mags, the two of them disappear in the thick of the trees. I can hear Finnick hammering a knife into the tree and inserting the spile. Then I hear some laughs and happy yells and I know they have found water.

Peeta grabs my hand and pulls me upright. He rubs my back, asking, "How are you feeling?"

Sick. Hurt. Nauseated. "Fine," I answer quietly. I cannot look at him and those blue eyes after knowing what I have done.

"Don't lie to me Katniss," he tells me coldly. "You're not fine." Before he can say more, Finnick and Mags return with a tightly woven basket of water. Peeta takes a sip from it and puts it to my lips until I finally take a drink as well. The water is warm but we can't be picky. It soothes my dry throat.

Peeta holds the half full basket in one hand and helps me up with the other. "Come on," he tells me.

He takes by the arm and helps me a few metres away from Finnick and Mags. His shirt rides up a little and I can see the blade tucked into his belt. He gestures for me to sit down on the ground and I comply. With the basket of water in his hands, he asks, "Do you want to do it yourself or will you let me?"

"You can," I reply meekly. He helps me out of the jumpsuit until I am only in my undergarments. I close my eyes tight, unable to look at him and he bathes my body with water. He grabs some soft moss leaves and hands them to me. I wipe away the murky red water dripping over my legs before chucking them away. He washes my jumpsuit as best he can before I slip it back on, still soaking wet.

"Do you feel better now?"

I nod. "Thank you." When I am fully dressed again, we head back in silence to Finnick and Mags. "I'll go hunt now," I say firmly. Some of the feeling within me has returned and it is evident in my voice. I am walking a little stronger and I am not so mentally weak. I refuse to be. I will not let Snow or anyone else in The Capitol make me weak.

I can see both Finnick and Peeta want to argue with me. But neither of them do. Peeta offers to come with me but I decline him. I grab my bow and arrow and walk as fast as my still wobbly legs will take me. My whole body is ginger but I am determined to push through the ache that troubles me with each step. Being a broken down almost mother will not help my cause. I must be strong. I tell myself this over and over to keep myself from breaking down and crying again. Stupid hormones. I've never cried so much in my life as I have these last few days.

Hunting makes me feel in control. I pick a spot concealed by bushes and pick off several birds and groosling. As I scoop my game under my arms, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps. I leap back behind the bushes but there is no need. It's only Peeta. I emerge and he immediately takes my bow and arrow from me. I want to protest but I don't.

"You should be resting," he says lowly, pretending to examine my bow. I wonder when he will again look me in the eye, or if he ever will.

"I can't afford to rest," I say. "_We_ can't afford to."

"Damn it Katniss, you had a miscarriage. Don't act like it was nothing. Don't act like it didn't kill you." The anger should not be surprising after what I've done to him. But it still strikes me across the face like a whip.

"It did Peeta," I croak. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"Katniss, I –"

I never get to hear the end of his sentence because during our conversation, a fog has been rolling in towards us. The sickly sweet odour in the air has been getting stronger and I recognise much too late what is happening. When I grab his hand and pull him back towards our camp, our skin has already begun to blister.


	9. Chapter 9

**Let me just say first up - you guys are awesome. 50 reviews? I'm so glad that you guys have responded to the story and it feels like ages since I last uploaded. Sorry if there are a few little mistakes. I rushed it a bit to get it uploaded for you all. Thanks :)**

**sidenote - check out my other hunger games story 'Real or not real' if you want another peeta/katniss story.  
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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

We run hand in hand back to the camp, and Finnick and Mags are trying to pack up our gear. "Leave it," I scream. They fumble with whatever is in their packs and slip them on. Peeta has my bow and arrow in his free hand and I take it from him as we run. Neither Peeta and I can run very fast. We're both damaged, broken, but we try to move each other faster along as Finnick moves like a steam train up ahead, Mags over his shoulder. The sweet odour gets stronger and when the fog touches us, I trip. There is some kind of chemical in this fog. Peeta picks me back up but I can see he's struggling too. It's like the air is attacking our muscles, breaking them down. We start moving again but all we do is fall and get back up. Finnick finally stops.

"Think you can take Mags?" he says, lifting Peeta up without another answer. I bend and allow Mags onto my back and we only get a few metres before my knees buckle.

"Finnick!" I cry. He takes my hand and gets me to my feet. "Can't you carry them both?" He shakes his head and I notice that he only has one trident left, tucked under Peeta. His face is sagging and he looks desperate.

Then something unexpected happens. Mags hops off of me, kisses Finnick right on the mouth, and walks straight into the fog.

"No!" I yell, going to go after her but Finnick pulls me back. I can see the shadow of her twitch and convulse. Then it falls and the cannon goes and she is dead. My body is aching but I still run after Finnick and Peeta. We finally collapse at the water, right near the Cornucopia, where the games started. The fog does not follow us. Instead, it retreats into thin air. I groan into the sand, rolling over on my side. Peeta and Finnick are a few metres away from me but they look to be breathing. I drag my fingers through the hot sand until I have pulled myself to the water. When I reach a hand in, there is a sharp burst of pain, so much so that I pull it back out. But as soon as I do, I feel better. I inch myself in slowly, willing myself to accept the pain so that I can feel the relief later. Getting my head under is the hardest. I scream, and water rushes into my lungs. When I emerge, coughing and spluttering, my body feels functional again.

I get out of the water and go straight to Peeta. Without hesitating, I grab his ankles and tow him to the water. Peeta's head is lolling on his shoulder and he's muttering things I can't understand. I try to hold his head straight and pull him in, little by little. He jumps, and tosses and tries to fight me but I still drag him further into the water.

Just as the water has reached his waist, his hand darts out and clamps down around my wrist. His head is upright but his eyes are closed. His mouth is curled in a frown. "Katniss, don't leave me."

He must be delirious from the pain, I think. I press my lips just above his left eyebrow and whisper against his skin. "I'm not going anywhere."

This seems to relax him. He falls back against the sand bank and I continue to pull him further into the water. I have to do it with one hand because he holds tightly onto my other one. "I'm sorry Katniss," he mumbles, as the poison seems to leak out of his body. "I knew, right from the start….."

"Shhh," I tell him. I can't let him say anything he shouldn't. I bend down and kiss his blistered lips. He blinks a couple of times and then opens his eyes. I pull back instantly and he just stares at me. It seems he's conscious enough now to remember that I shouldn't be kissing him, not after what I did. We stare at each other and I wish he could how he really feels, because not knowing is much worse.

A groan breaks through our shared gaze. Finnick is lying a few metres away, sprawled out on the sand, eyes closed.

"I need you to help me get him into the water," I say to him. Peeta nods and we get out of the water to walk to Finnick. His big, muscular frame is heavy to carry, even for the two of us. He looks much worse than either of us did, probably because he had to carry Mags and Peeta and because there was a lot more of him for the poison to seep into to.

We heave him to the water and dip his toes in. He actually cries and has a mini seizure. We have to hold him still until he stops.

"If we keep going, we'll kill him," Peeta points out. He's right, of course. I see a few shells nearby and together we scoop some water into them and pour them over Finnick. He groans but he doesn't fidget. The fog exits his pores in wisps of smoke. When we finally do his face, he opens his eyes. "Thank you," he says. He sits upright and I sit next down to him. Peeta stares down at the both of us.

"I think I'll go for a swim," Finnick says after a while, and he leaves us alone to dive into the water. Peeta looks away. "I'll set up camp. Stay here." I do. When night falls down suddenly on us, Finnick insists on keeping guard. I take one look at his bleary eyes and know he is grieving for Mags.

When Peeta and I lie down for the night, he surprises me by putting his arm around me. To anyone, it would look like we are trying to heal after the tragic miscarriage of our child. But I notice things that The Capitol audience surely will not. Like how stiff and rigid his arm is. How his hand doesn't curl into me, finding mine or touching the side of my face. How his head turns away from me. How he doesn't even say goodnight.

I barely sleep that night. Finnick's on and off sobbing keeps me mostly conscious. I keep my eyes on Peeta for most of it. He mutters in his sleep on and off, mostly stuff I can't understand. After a while, he turns away from me in his sleep, letting go of me and I shove down the hurt that rises in my chest.

I finally look away from him and stare up at the stars that litter the sky. It's funny. A lot of people never realise what they have until it's gone. I'm one of those people. I never knew how much Peeta's friendship meant to me, how much he meant to me until he didn't want to even be around me anymore. Until he stopped looking at me like he loved me.

When morning light comes, Peeta rolls back over to me and opens his eyes. "Hi," he says sleepily.

"I need you," I say abruptly. I have no right to need him. I'm being selfish. I know that if I force him to treat me better, he will have to for the Games. If I kiss him, if I try to act in love, he will not push me away. He can't. But can I really do that to the one person I can truly trust? Can I break for my own selfish need to be forgiven? I honestly don't know what I'm capable of anymore.

"You have me," he says indifferently. But I wonder if this is true or a lie. In the Games, I cannot tell. Another time, I might have known.

We examine our bodies in the sunlight streaming down on us. We look horribly disfigured, like burn victims. And it itches like crazy. I try to resist even though it's difficult. Finnick clearly has no such self-control. He's hopping around like crazy, scratching and rubbing himself up against the nearest tree.

"Do you need some privacy or….?" I ask, gesturing to him and the tree. He rolls his eyes and continues to scratch. "You'll just cause scars if you keep doing that Finnick. Then you might have to be ugly for the rest of your life. Imagine that."

It may or may not be a coincidence but a second later, he stops scratching.

A couple of minutes later, a parachute lands in front of us. Peeta is first to reach it, and he pulls out a tub of thick purple goo. He looks at Finnick and me. "I'm guessing this is for the burns."

"Gimme," Finnick says, snatching it from Peeta's hands. He slathers it all over his body and we take turns helping spread it all over each other. We end up looking like something out of a horror film. Finnick looks suitably horrified.

"You'll be pretty again one day," I tell him and he just groans. We hear footsteps and it stops our joking around, puts us immediately on the offense. Finnick levels his trident in his fingers;Peeta pulls his knife from his belt and I aim my bow.

Suddenly, Finnick calls, "Johanna," and takes off running into the jungle. I groan this time. Of all the possible allies we could have had, Johanna Mason was at the bottom of the list, somwhere near the Careers.

"She's got Nuts and Volts with her too." When I frown at Peeta, he explains. "Wiress and Beetee." My eyebrows arch in surprise. I was not expecting that one. I jerk my head in their direction and together we walk towards them.

When Peeta and I reach Finnick and Johanna, she's telling him some blood filled rain. Wiress is just spinning around in circles, running around them both and muttering 'tick tock' over and over again. "Sit the hell down," Johanna spits.

"Leave her alone," I snap, reaching a hand out to Wiress. She takes it with surprise and stops moving. She looks at me confusedly for a moment before sitting down on the ground. She crosses her legs, hangs her head in her lap and continues to mutter.

"Leave her – I got them for you! Almost died to - " Johanna steps towards me and before I can react, slaps me so hard across the face I actually stumble. Peeta steps in front of me before I can regain my step and put an arrow through her brain. He pushes her away and Finnick picks her up like she is a ragdoll. He brings her to the water and washes the blood off her skin. All the while, she yells as many insults as she can at me, in between Finnick dunking her head under water.

Peeta puts his hand gently against my cheek. His skin is still damp and it soothes the burning. "Are you okay?"

I ignore his question. "What did she mean, getting them for me?"

Peeta takes his hand off his face and all pretence has dropped from his face; the moment of gentleness is gone. "Did you want them? She probably knew you wouldn't agree to be allies unless she brought them to you."

I look down at Beetee, who is shaking in the sand, skin caked with blood. "Unless we fix him, he's not going to live long enough to be our ally."

We grab one of his hands each and haul him to the water. Peeta scrapes the blood off Beetee's skin and I try to cut him out of his jumpsuit. I avert my eyes as much as possible but it's not too bad. My mother's been treating naked men for years.

There's a long gash on his back but it doesn't look bad. Peeta cleans it as best he can and wraps one of the soft moss leaves around his back. We bring him back to the sand bank where Wiress is sitting how I left her, mouth moving so fast I doubt any words are coming out.

But when I get closer, I hear her. "Tick, tock, tick tock," she mutters.

"Yeah tick tock," I say back. She stares up at me oddly and I take the momentary distraction to check her out. She doesn't look like she is injured, at least not physically. I can't speak for her mental health.

Johanna returns with Finnick and we distinctly avoid eye contact. I make a show to laugh and talk with Finnick though, only because I know she's good friends with him and it would piss her off. It does. She eyes me for the rest of the night, like she wouldn't hesitate the chop my head off with her axe.

"I hate Johanna," I say when we lie down for the night.

Peeta sighs. "I know," he replies back. I stare up at him for a while, and note all of his physical beauties. Like the line of his slightly squarish jaw. His incredibly long lashes that frame over his blue eyes, the colour of the water on a perfect day. His full lips curled over a row of slightly off coloured teeth. He really is…..beautiful.

I think back to our moments in the cave during our first Games. How he told me he fell for me the moment he heard me sing in class. More and more, I've been remembering the lyrics to that song. I haven't sung since Rue died. Singing seems like a luxury for happy people.

But now, in a voice that's barely above a whisper, I sing.

I know I'm not singing it properly. In my effort to keep low, my voice is somewhat strained. But I still feel Peeta freeze beside me, still feel his eyes stuck on me like he will never take them off me again. I finish the first verse and the chorus and die off into a low hum. Peeta relaxes and I notice that he has inched a little closer toward me. Our feet are close enough for me to push my leg out and touch him.

When I fall into a somewhat restless sleep, I swear I hear him say, "I was a goner right from the start."

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><p>Sunlight seems to come too quickly. They must like keeping us awake. Either that, or they have something serious planned.<p>

When I get up, Finnick and Johanna are hovering over Beetee. He seems to be in a worse shape than he was yesterday. Wiress is her usual crazy self and Johanna looks as irritated as ever.

"He got cut getting some stupid wire up at the Cornucopia," I hear Johanna say derisively. "Like that would help him."

"He won his Games with a wire," I pipe up. They both look over me and Peeta, unaware we had woken up. I narrow my eyes at Johanna. Something doesn't make sense. "Seems you would know that, wouldn't you?"

Johanna takes a step forward, towards me. "Sorry for not realising that. I must have been busy trying to save their asses and mine. While you were doing what exactly? Getting Mags killed?"

My fingers go to the knife tucked into my belt on instinct and Johanna's eyes narrow to dangerous slits. "Do it," she dares in a low, threatening voice. "I don't care if you are pregnant, I'll rip your throat out!"

Everything seems to happen in slow motion. The words leave Johanna's mouth and hang in the air. Finnick glares at Johanna. Peeta looks sideways at me in concern, seeking out my hand.

Before anyone can stop me, my hands are around Johanna Mason's throat.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

There are moments that you look back on, and you wonder…..did you really do that? Was that really you?

This is one of those times.

A haze falls over my eyes and all that matters is my fingers squeezing the air out of Johanna's throat. Her eyes turn feral and her hands start to scratch me like crazy, drawing blood at my hands, arms and face. And then everyone else seems to wake up and react.

Finnick grabs me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder. I don't even fight him. I let him carry me away, and watch as Johanna yells obscenities at me from behind Peeta, who has stepped in front of her.

Finnick carries me a few metres until we are back in the jungle, away from the beach. He sets me down gently at the base of a tree and moves away from me. He opens his mouth but I don't think he knows what to say. Luckily he doesn't have to. Peeta appears through the trees. "Keep an eye on Johanna," he mutters to Finnick. Finnick doesn't need any more encouragement. He takes powerful strides straight back to the beach and I hear his booming voice telling off Johanna. I feel a rush of friendship towards Finnick, and I know that I should not feel that when I must have to kill him very soon.

Peeta bends down next to me, and I feel his gaze on me; probing, wondering. He finally reaches a hand out and rests it on my knee. Tears crash down my face before I can stop them and I hide my face in my hands. I cannot look at him without breaking down even more.

He pulls my hands away and wipes away my tears. "Don't cry," he says firmly. But his voice wavers slightly when he speaks net. "They don't need to see you cry."

I don't care about them at all. But I know that this is not the right thing to say. I want to look into his eyes and tell him Gale was a mistake, that I never meant to hurt him like that because he is the closest thing to someone romantic I really have. But I can't say any of this with the cameras watching us. I may never be able to tell him this, even on my deathbed. If I want him to be the face of the rebellion, his cause will not be helped by me pretty much admitting our relationship was mostly a sham.

He yanks me to my feet, holding me so I cannot fall down again. I wonder then – when did Peeta become the strong one, and I became the one who needed to be saved? "Come on."

We walk slowly back to the beach where Johanna has calmed down. She and Finnick are standing closely, sharing an intense conversation. Johanna's eyes snap my way but I don't look at her. Beetee is lying on the sandbank, awake but drained. Wiress is muttering, pacing in circles. So I make Peeta let go of me and head over to her.

"Wiress?" She cocks her head at me. "You okay?" Just as the words leave my lips, a flash of lightening goes off in the grey, murky sky. Wiress's eyes light up, frenzied.

"Tick tock, tick tock!" she says and I look up at the sky above me. The flash of lightening doesn't reappear and I frown.

"Tick tock," I repeat to her. "Like a clock." It seems I've stumbled upon something because she nods and starts to mutter again so fast, I don't get another clear word out of her.

I walk away from her, staring out at the arena. I tune out everything I can, leaving only Wiress's muttering in the background. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Clock.

Everything seems to fall into place. The fog. The blood rain Johanna talked about. The arena is a clock.

"Hey guys!" I yell. Peeta, Finnick and Johanna all look my way. Even Beetee lifts his head. "The arena's a clock."

They all look at me with the same mix of scepticism and confusion. But I slowly explain what Wiress has known all along. The arena is a clock. All of these disasters have been carefully conducted by the Gamemakers. Every section of the jungle brings a new calamity. Wiress stands nearby, looking like she is floating on air. Her face has taken on an entirely peaceful look, like she is relieved that someone finally understands her.

We head to the Cornucopia, and sure enough, we are protected when the next destructive force descends on us. Peeta retrieves a package someone left behind in the mouth of the Corncucopia and he shows it to me. It is a tent. Possibly the most private place inside these games. When it comes time for bed, I offer to take the next watch and to my surprise, Johanna offers too. Peeta doesn't seem too happy about this but I give him a gentle shove away. He sleeps inside the tent by himself. Finnick cuddles with his trident. Beetee lays slumped a few feet away from him.

"I'm sorry 12," she says bluntly an hour into our watch. I turn to her, and she is twisting her axe in her hands. Is she planning on chopping my head off as an apology? "I was out of line."

I scoff. I don't think Johanna Mason has apologised to anyone in her life. But I guess it's a start. Still, I am not the forgiving type. "You meant what you said. You may be sorry about it now but that doesn't change anything."

"Jeez, why don't you just accept my apology?" she growls.

"Because it's not a proper apology," I spit back.

"Fine, I'm truly, sincerely sorry. I beg for your forgiveness oh great one." She snorts loudly and Finnick stirs in his sleep. "It's not like you didn't make me pay anyway." She tilts her head up, and in the soft moonlight, I can see the red marks around her throat. Good.

"You did your own damage," I reply, angling my face towards her so she can get a good look at the scratch she left under my eye. There are plenty of them on my wrists too from when she tried to pry my fingers off.

"We even then?" she says, looking at me with a glint in her eyes.

"Not by a long shot," I say brusquely, and that effectively ends our conversation.

Just as the last minutes of our shift tick over, we hear noises. Both of us rise to attention, looking sideways at each other, listening closely.

Johanna kicks Finnick's feet and he rises with a start. I poke my head into the tent where Peeta is asleep. I shake him until he rockets up, his hands squeezing at my shoulders. His eyes are mad. "It's only me Peeta."

The nightmare in his eyes slowly fades. We stumble out of the tent just in time to see Gloss slit Wiress's neck. A blood red smile on her neck grins at us before she falls face forward in the water.

It's the Careers. They've decided to go on the offence after playing it safe from all of the unnatural disasters that the Gamemakers had unleashed upon us. And they're out to kill. Gloss descends on Peeta and before I can send an arrow to his head, Johanna has planted her axe in his chest. The cannon is instant as Gloss falls to the ground dead. Enobaria comes barging through the bushes, dodging Finnick's trident throw. I spot Cashmere heading for Peeta and I let an arrow fly. She sees it but she doesn't get away fast enough. It pierces her shoulder, long enough for Peeta to pull his knife out. Before he can though, Johanna has already finished Cashmere off with contempt written on her face.

I am so focused on protecting Peeta, on watching him, that I do not see Brutus before it is too late. I do not see him before his knife goes straight into my side. I gasp at the blinding pain as he twists it under my ribs. I grab his shoulder and try to push him off but he digs in harder. He pulls it out and I drop straight to my knees, my eyes watering. He looms over me, ready to finish me off but a trident spears him in the chest. He collapses into the dirt and the cannon sounds, signalling his death, and luckily not my own. I hold my stomach as my eyes roll back into my head, as if I could still save my long gone baby.

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><p>When I emerge from the darkness, Peeta hovers over me and his hands go to my side, trying to staunch the flow of blood. His face is remarkably still. "Peeta," I pant, trying to reach my arm up. My limbs feel useless though.<p>

"Shut up," he tells me, and it's not with malice that he does. He's just trying to save my energy.

"I got her," says a voice. Finnick's bronze haired face peers in, and he picks me up, carrying me away from the Cornucopia. He lays me down by the water and he and Peeta try to fix my wound. They wash away what blood they can and then wrap a long moss leaf around my stomach to stop me from bleeding. But I'm starting to feel dizzier by the second and I can feel the blood leaking from my wound. I can't sit up. I can't do anything but lie there. They search through all of the packs we've gathered and Finnick finds some kind of fever pills, like the ones I gave to Peeta in the first games.

They make me take one, just in case, before I take a turn for the worse. They fuss over me for a while and I watch them with amusement. They bicker about the best way to do treat me, whether or not they could get Haymitch to send some medicine, whether or not they should move me.

"Are you girls done?" I muster weakly. Both look down at me and Finnick even smiles at me. Finally they agree to move me into the tent for some protection. Finnick offers to take the first shift with Johanna. Peeta settles in next to me, wrapping me in the sleeping bag so I don't get cold. I tell him to get inside with me and though he initially refuses, eventually he relents. His body warmth diminishes the coldness I feel.

We are quiet for a long time. Then I realise there is so much I need to say to him. "Listen, if I don't make it –"

"You really need to be quiet," he tells me, and he surprises me by kissing me lightly on my nose. "You're not gonna die. After all, haven't we been here before?"

He speaks of our time in the cave, when the situations were reversed. When it was Peeta who was dying, and me who comforted him. I'm sure the audience and Snow are enjoying the irony of it all.

"We have. But I have a feeling we're not gonna be here again." He grits his teeth and tightens his arms around me, as much as he can without hurting me.

"Don't talk," he says simply and I close my eyes and bury my head in his shirt. I like that in the tent, they can barely see our shadows. They cannot see us, maybe hear us but we are almost alone. I doze off for only a little bit and when I wake up, Peeta is barely awake. It's darker than it should be and I know that this is deliberate. The only light is from the soft thin light from one of the small lantern lights they grabbed off of Brutus.

I look up at him, his mess of blonde hair falling over his forehead. There's some dry blood on his neck, probably mine and his full lips are set in an almost smile. There's a large gash in his uniform, right above his bellybutton. I reach through it and graze my fingers along the panels of his stomach. I can feel his hard, sinewy muscles underneath the tips of my blistered fingertips.

"Having fun there?" he asks, cracking one eye fully open. He grins down at me and this breaks my heart. It's a grin I haven't seen in a long time and it might be the last time I see it.

"You have muscles," I comment in surprise.

"You sound surprised," he says in a pretend offended tone.

"I just never noticed."

He puts his hand across my forehead and I frown. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking if you have a fever. You don't seem to but I don't know how else to explain the words coming out of your mouth," he says with a laugh.

"Let me be serious Peeta," I say. I stroke his face, trying to pick my words as carefully as I can. "I know a lot has happened but I just….." Oh god, I wish I was good at saying things. "If we – if we hadn't had to come back in here, I would've – it would have been you and me. Forever." He looks away, probably thinking I'm just saying this because I'm dying and I want to make him happy. That I'm still trying to make up for what happened between Gale and me. I jerk his head back around to look at me. "I'm serious Peeta. This isn't the fever or me dying or anything else." I stop to take a breath in, because what I'm about to say is the hardest thing I've ever said. And then I whisper, "I love you."

It's the first time that I've said it to him, to any boy and meant it. I could never say it to Gale. But I love Peeta. I do. I love him, and his kind heart, and gentle soul. I love the boy with the bread and I cannot bear to lose him or be without him. I know that however this ends, one of us will die without the other. Gale is my friend, my brother, my comfort and strength for so long. But I what I need is Peeta's unconditional love and care, not Gale's fire and passion. I have enough of my own.

Peeta looks down at me. He studies me, maybe trying to find the lie in my words. But it seems he doesn't because a light comes into his eyes. He sees that it's not just an act. It's not for the Games. It's real. "I love you too." He bends his head down and kisses me as strongly as he dares to. This kiss makes me feel more alive than I ever have; ironic since I'm technically dying. "Always."

"Always," I echo. I nestle into him again and we lie in silence for a few moments. I can see he can't seem to wipe the smile off his face and this makes me happy. If not for these Games, we might have more time, we might have a chance. But right now, this admission of love is all we will ever have.

Or is it?

"Peeta?" I say in a tiny, hesitant voice. He looks down at me and perhaps he sees how badly my hands are shaking because he kisses them. It's so hard for me to express these kind of feelings that every part of my body fights against letting my guard down. But I have to do this.

In the lowest voice I can muster, I say in a trembling voice, "Make love to me."

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><p><strong>Ahh do you hate me for leaving it there? :D next one should be up in a couple of days. reviews make me happy :)<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

A silence so deep I could drown in it fills the air between us. His whole face seems to contort into hurt and I am instantly regretting my foolish words – how dare I think that just because he seems to love me, he can forgive me for what I did.

"I can't," he finally says, his voice cutting across me. "You just – the baby – I won't." He looks into my eyes and I read into his words. He can't because of the Games, because of my miscarriage. He won't because of Gale. And I do not blame him. Gale is like an overwhelming shadow that hangs over us. Will I ever be able to escape it?

"I know," I say back, but I'm trying so hard not to cry. It was a stupid idea. I was stupid. I try to shimmy out of his grasp but my body is far too weak and he does not let me go.

"Katniss I –"

"It was a mistake okay!" I yell. Peeta's hand goes over my mouth and we pause, hearing the stir of Finnick and Johanna outside. When they stop moving and all is quiet again, he removes his hand. "It was a mistake," I whisper this time, holding back tears. It's the only way I can tell him sleeping with Gale was one of the worst things I've ever done. "I love you. I never meant to – I wish I hadn't –"

"Shh," he murmurs, stroking the back of my head. "I know." I feel his lips brush over my forehead. "I believe you." And it sounds like he truly does. I close my eyes because….this might be enough. I can die happy, with him holding me.

There is an hour of us drifting in and out of sleep. I try not to move too much because it disrupts my wound and a little blood trickles out. When I accidently turn, I gasp at the pain it sends through me. This rouses Peeta from his half-sleep and he looks down at me with concern. "Katniss."

"I'm okay," I lie, patting the back of his hand. I ease the rate of my breathing slowly but it's tough. "I'm okay."

I try to settle back into sleep but Peeta won't stop staring down at me. I can't decipher the emotion on his face as I usually can. "What?" I finally ask.

He doesn't say anything. Instead he swoops down and kisses me hard. His mouth moulds to mine, pushing my lips open to allow his tongue access. It's a kiss we've never shared before and it tells me that things are going somewhere. I jolt underneath him and he pulls back. He clears his throat, looking embarrassed. "Katniss I…..I thought that you wanted….."

I do. But I'm so very scared. Of dying. Of losing him. Of doing this with everyone potentially watching us. If I die though, I don't want it to be without having given him every part of me. It hasn't been long since the miscarriage. It's far too soon to think about anything like this, let alone do anything but my time is running out. I need to be with Peeta. Just this once. Just in case I die.

"Please," I beg him in a childlike whisper. He bends his head down, lingering over my face, relishing the sight before him. He touches my cheek and I shiver. He drags his fingers down my jaw and I breathe hard into his skin. Then he kisses me, soft and slow, and a flame flickers inside of me. He tugs his head back and puts a finger to his lips. I nod; we will have to be quiet. We might get away with not being seen by the cameras in the tent but they might hear us if we're loud.

He extinguishes the light in the corner and we are shrouded in darkness. I am sure they cannot see us now, if anything only our light shadows and that will have to be enough. He takes off his shredded shirt and pants until he's only in his underwear. Then he attempts to get my clothes off which proves a little hard, considering I can barely move. I lift my ginger body up slightly so he can get my arms out of my sleeves. He is careful not to disrupt the moss leaf bandages or move me.

Peeta then moves down and slowly yanks my pants to my ankles and all of my undergarments. I keep my eyes closed the whole time and open them only when Peeta kisses me. He is suspended above me, as exposed as I am. He is trying to be careful not to put any weight on me and I know it's difficult for him.

"You are so….." he trails off and kisses the hollow of my neck. "There aren't any words that do you justice," he admits with a rueful smile when his head ducks back up. He kisses along my collarbone and presses a hand across my heart. "I can feel your heartbeat. It's pounding like crazy."

I smile at him, grazing my fingers down his face. He kisses them one by one. "I can't help it," I admit, my pale skin giving way to a bright blush.

I lift the arm that doesn't feel numb and clutch at his waist. He enters slowly and though there is no deep pain as there was with Gale, there is an ache in my lower body, which is probably from doing this so soon after the miscarriage. But after a minute, it is much easier. There is no agony, just a love so deep that it encompasses us both. As he finds a rhythm, I find it impossible to the keep the pleasure inside of me. I have to bury my mouth in his shoulder so I don't moan. Peeta keeps his head on my shoulder, panting hard in my ear. He breathes my name over and over again. There is no awkwardness, no uncertainness. Everything feels natural, like it's meant to be. This is not for Peeta, as it was for Gale. It is for the both of us. What we want. What we need.

Peeta speeds up and I know he's close, as I am. He's practically in pain trying to keep so quiet and I'm actually biting his skin to stay silent. He looks sideways at me and meets my eyes. I can tell what he's asking even when he doesn't say anything – he wants to know if he can let go. I nod at him and he kisses below my ear on the sensitive part of my neck. He straightens his body and our eyes meet – grey Seam and bright blue. He bends down and joins our lips together, kissing me like he never ever wants to let me go again. Then we spill over the edge together, our moans falling into each other's mouths. He holds me as close as he can without hurting me until he gradually stops moving. He stays up above me for the longest time and we just breathe each other in, not wanting to end this moment. But eventually we end up back next to each other in the sleeping bag, still naked. None of us have the strength yet to get dressed.

A part of me wishes that we had more time, that we could have done everything properly, maybe even gotten married. But even now, I can feel myself crashing back from my high. All of that pleasure masked how bad a shape I really am in. I can feel it all now though and I'm sure I won't last through to the next day.

I sleep in Peeta's arms, a fitful, dreamless sleep. There are no nightmares. Just utter tranquillity. I almost forget where we are. Until light breaks in and Finnick is tapping on the tent.

"You guys up?" he asks. I sneak a peek at Peeta, who has already started to dress himself.

"Just a minute," Peeta replies in an even voice. He puts all of my undergarments back on me and my pants which I appreciate. I help him get my top back on and we straighten ourselves best we can. He helps me out of the tent and into a standing position. I make sure I don't wince so he doesn't see how much pain I'm. How close I am to death.

He holds onto me, helping my feet move weakly forward. He kisses the side of my face with a smile and it seems he can't stop being happy. I smile back at him, just to disguise my pain.

"Morning," Finnick greets. He doesn't look up from the shellfish that he is cleaning in his hands.

"Morning Finnick," Peeta says back. "You could have woken me up for a shift if you needed."

"It's alright. Johanna and I handled it." Peeta goes off to the water to wash his face and Finnick smirks at me. "Sounded like you were busy anyway."

Looking away, I tell him in an offhand voice, "Shut up Finnick."

I hear him chuckle lowly and I sink down into the sand. I simply don't have the strength to stand. Finnick looks over at me with worry. He's by my side as soon as I sit down. "You okay?"

Peeta's back within earshot so I simply fix him with a stare that I hope conveys everything: I am dying.

Peeta kisses me as soon as he returns. "Lie down," he tells me. "I'll change the moss bandages."

I lie back weakly in the sand. It must cost too much for Haymitch to get what will save me. Either that or he's waiting to the wire for some entertainment factor. But then again, he's not exactly like that.

We move camps to escape the oncoming trauma that the arena will bring. Peeta leads the way and Finnick carries me in his arms carefully with Johanna and Beetee behind us. He sets me down and Peeta is quick to come to my side. Just as he bends down, a parachute arrives by our feet. Peeta dives for it straight away. It is filled with supplies. There is a bowl of broth, a tub of thick paste, a roll of bandages and a tablet. I know what everything else is for but the tiny pill intrigues me. It is bright blue and obviously meant for me but what does it mean?

Peeta takes the tub of paste and dabs gently at my side. Then he takes the gauze and winds it around my stomach until I am so tightly wrapped up it is hard to move. But I feel better at least. This cream will keep me alive a little longer. I offer the broth to all of them but it seems none of them will take it from me. Peeta takes a few sips before insisting I eat the rest. He sets up the tent and I rest in there for a little bit. I am in the middle of gulping down soup when it lands in my mouth. I pull it out, shake my saliva off of it and hold it up to my eyes.

Haymitch has snuck a piece of paper into the broth.

It's covered in some kind of plastic so the ink has not run. _We can't afford any more accidents. Make sure you take the pill._

Accidents? Does he know about….?

I instantly pick the pill up and swallow it with the quart of water by my side. With a tiny smile, I shake my head. Guess we weren't so secretive after all.

When I emerge, Peeta is waiting for me. "Did you figure out what that pill was?" he asks.

I decide not to tell him. "No but I took it anyway. It was important enough for Haymitch to want me to have it."

He shrugs and I notice Finnick has disappeared down the beach, hunting in the water with his trident. Johanna is sitting nearby, looking a little disgruntled. I wonder how many other tributes there are left besides us. I'm pretty sure Enobaria is the only one left from the Careers but there a few others I'm unsure of. Chaff. The morphlings. I haven't been paying as close attention as I should to the skies.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, reaching out to feel my forehead,

"Much better," I answer truthfully. I study Peeta's face as he moves his hands down to my arm and rubs up and down. Is he regretting last night? Did he only do it because I thought he would die and now I haven't. Not yet anyway. I'm still alive and he has to accept what we both did. "Look, last night –"

"Not a word," he cuts me off with a smile. He kisses my forehead and I lift my hands to his chest. We stand with each other, still wrapped up in the ecstasy of last night. I know this is so much that we haven't dealt with, so much we can't here but right now I don't even care. All I can see Peeta and his smile and his eyes.

A scream pierces the air and both Peeta and I go still. Before Peeta can stop me, I am throwing myself towards the noise. The paste is working miracles on the wound in my side but I am still so frail. I know this, yet I must reach the voice behind the scream. It doesn't matter that I cannot move quickly, that I stagger and wobble unsteadily. None of this stops me.

Because the voice is Prim's.

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><p><strong>GALE<strong>

"Gale stop!" I ignore my mother's voice, consumed by the rage smothering my head. I kick the rocking chair where my mother used to rock Posy to sleep and it smashes on the ground. I hear Posy crying in the background but all I can hear is Katniss's words.

I love you.

Those words are ricocheting off the walls and hitting me again and again. Each one sends me into a further frenzy. She told me she didn't believe in love. She couldn't tell me when we made love. I gave her space. I didn't push her. And now…..

I yank all of the dishes off of the table and they smash on the ground. Posy is openly sobbing in my mother's arms but I cannot bring myself to stop. I am ablaze.

I had her. For the shortest moment in history she was mine. All mine. She was pregnant with _my _baby. Mine. And when she lost it, I lost her. Lost any claim I might have had on her. But we're a mistake apparently. We're a mistake and she told him that she loved him. I know she slept with him; anyone with a brain paying close enough attention could see that they weren't just cuddling in that tent. She knew I was watching and yet…

I love you.

We could have been so happy, me and her. We could have been a family, run away into the woods with our baby. But now, she is never coming back to me. Even if she survives this, I'll never have her again. It'll always be Peeta. Maybe it always has been and I've just been so stupid not to see it. I'm _so stupid._

My brain vaguely registers the sound of a closing door. Then hurried footsteps and suddenly arms are wrapping around me. It's Vick and Rory holding me down. They're doing their best but I am stronger than them. I pull an arm out and it smacks Rory in the face. He falls to the ground and clutches his eye.

"Look at what you're doing Gale," Vick says, letting go of me to tend to Rory. Rory looks up and I can see a quickly forming bruise underneath his left eye. This shocks me out of my stupor. I did that to him. My own brother. Who I swore I would do anything to protect.

I stand there, unsteady on my feet. I feel like I'm floating. Like I've escaped my body and this world and I'm just looking down at myself, watching this person who feels like a stranger.

They all stare at me, stare at this stranger in their house. Posy finally stops crying, her wet, tear stained face buried in my mother's clothes. Vick gets to his feet and I can see him moving slowly towards me. Everything then seems to happen in slow motion. Before he can reach me, the door smashes open and footsteps thunder on the floor. Hands are grabbing me, pushing away my brothers. They are forcing me to the ground, clamping my wrists behind my back and slamming handcuffs on them.

"What are you doing?" Hazelle screams, "Let go of him!"

The Capitol accent is thick in the man's voice when he speaks. "Gale Hawthorne is under arrest, from order of President Snow."

I should fight them. I should kick and scream but I can't. One of the men smashes me in the back of the head and my eyes go unfocused but I can hear my mother screaming and my brothers's yelling, trying to force their way to me. I see a shadow in the corner - Posy huddled in fear.

They pull me out by the hair, away from my family, away from the rage that has taken me over. I let them because I'm already dead. My family's voices die out and all I can hear is three words and eight letters echoing in my head, pounding against the walls of my brain.

I love you.

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><p><strong>I know some of you had some concerns that it was too soon for PeetaKatniss and they had unresolved issues but the way I looked at it was - if the person you loved was possibly dying and you had only one chance to be with them, wouldn't you take it? And just being in the arena means only one of them will come out so they only have little time left. I tried to make Peeta as conflicted about it as possible to prove he hasn't forgotten about what happened with Gale but is big enough to realise that it was a mistake.**

**Anyway, I hoped you liked it. ****Review if you did :)**


	12. Chapter 12  PART 1

**I've decided chapter 12 will be the last *tear*. Anyway, this is short because it will be divided into two parts. There is an option for a sequel if you want it, just let me know. 100 reviews maybe? :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12 - PART 1<strong>

I feel Peeta's arms around me before I can get too far. I kick against him as hard as I can but he won't let me go. "Let me go Peeta," I scream. "They've got Prim."

"It's not Prim," he tells me softly. Finnick, Johanna and Beetee appear behind us, the commotion drawing them to us.

Johanna looks annoyed, like we interrupted something important. "What's going on?" she asks.

"They've got my sister!" I yell. But her cries have stopped. A new scream has taken over and it's not Prim's. But it seems to strike a chord with Finnick because he takes off and runs, yelling "Annie!"

"Finnick!" None of us are fast enough to chase him though. Peeta's holding on to me, Beetee is still weak and Johanna looks like she doesn't want to. "Who's Annie?" I ask Johanna, because if anybody knows, it's her.

To my surprise, she gives me an answer without attitude. "Annie Cresta, from District 4. She won these Games a while ago, turned her mad. That's who Mags volunteered for."

I stare sadly after Finnick. That's who he loves. Not the string of Capitol women he parades around with. Just some poor mad girl from his district. I look sideways at Peeta who turns to me. If I didn't have him, would I have been some loaned out Victor to any man in the Capitol, selling my body to the highest bidder. I shudder at the thought because most certainly, Snow would love the thought of this.

"Go get him," I tell Johanna. She doesn't even argue with me, just taking off after Finnick. I turn to Beetee, who looks better than he has the past few days. "Do you think they have my sister?"

Peeta answers for him. "She's safe Katniss. They interview the families around this time. They wouldn't kill her."

"Then what….." I follow Beetee's gaze upwards and it clicks for me. The Jabberjays. They're here to torment us. Manipulate us into thinking our loved ones are in serious harm.

I look back down to the forest. I wonder if Johanna has found Finnick yet. But then I realise. This is the perfect time for Peeta and I to break away. We've entertained the thought of allies long enough. We need to go.

"Beetee, why don't you go see where they are?" Beetee follows my suggestion without question, until Peeta and I are finally alone. I take his hand and give it a squeeze. "We should go Peeta. We can't stay any longer."

He deliberates, but he looks like he agrees with me. He opens his mouth to reply but something stops him. He cries out in pain and drops to the ground. There is an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. And it's not mine.

I look up and see Enobaria grinning at me from across the way. We're lucky she's not that great a shot because I'm sure she was aiming for his heart. I make for my bow and arrow only a few feet away but by the time I shoot, she's gone. Peeta groans at my feet and I bend down to him.

"I'm okay," he says, and I closely examine the arrow. It's not too bad. It's just broken skin but luckily it's not too deep. I slowly ease it out and he lies in patience, grimacing but quiet.

When I've wrapped his shoulder in bandages and applied the leftover paste, I hear footsteps. "Stay down," I tell Peeta. I raise my bow and arrow and tread deeper into the forest. I hear a mocking laugh and I turn sharply. She is around here somewhere, taunting me. There is a rustle of leaves and I turn again. But this time it is only Johanna.

"Where's Finnick?" I ask her, but she seems determined to ignore me, glancing around wildly for the noises we can both still hear. "Where is he Johanna?" I ask again, my irritation rising.

She finally meets my eye with a glare. "He's fine. He's with Peeta. Beetee calmed him down." She raises her serrated knife and stares around. "There's someone here."

"Enobaria," I answer. "She injured Peeta." The thought tightens my hands around my bow. I swore to protect him and I will not let anyone hurt him. I will kill her without hesitating. My eyes flicker to Johanna. If it was here lying in wait, if she had injured Peeta, I would hunt her down too, wouldn't I?

We stand, back to back, watching and waiting for anyone to emerge. Everything has gone quiet. No laughing. No footsteps. No nothing. And then a cannon sounds and my blood runs cold.

"Peeta! Finnick!" I yell. I am ready to take off but Johanna grabs my arm and pulls me back. "Get off of me," I spit at her. I resent Johanna touching me in any way, especially since something might have happened to Peeta. He might be dead.

"Peeta's okay Katniss," she says quietly, and there is an odd calmness in her voice that throws me off.

"How the hell do you know?" I ask, but I'm secretly hoping she is right. She points up into the dark sky, and an image has appeared. These images are supposed to signify the death of another tribute. But it can't be doing that this time. Because, there, in the sky, is a face I know as well as mine. An olive skinned face with grey eyes below a mess of short dark hair.

It is Gale.


	13. Chapter 12  PART 2

**PART 2**

"Johanna," I splutter, my bow dropping from my hand. I shouldn't drop my defence, especially when Enobaria is around here somewhere. But I cannot help it. Gale's face, along with the words 'District 12' are peering down at me. Then they disappear and my panic starts to rise even further. "Johanna, what does that mean?"

"It's nothing Katniss," she says but she doesn't look too convinced. "Nothing's happened to him. They're just trying to scare you, rattle you. Don't let them."

"But the cannon….." I turn, spinning around wildly. "Could they put him in the arena? Kill him?"

"It's never been done," she says, biting her bottom lip. But I hear what she doesn't say. Just because it hasn't been done before, doesn't mean they wouldn't do it. They could have dropped Gale into the arena at any time, and Enobaria or even one of the other tributes left might have killed him.

"We have to do –"

I don't get to finish my sentence. Something smashes into the side of my head and my vision swims. It comes again, a blow to my temples and I crash into the grass. Blood cascades down the side of my face. Through the sea of red, I see Johanna lean over me. Enobaria must have attacked us. Johanna is coming to help me...

Oh how wrong I am.

She drives her serrated knife into my forearm, just above my elbow and I let out a silent gasp. She wrenches it inside, ripping through my muscles and tendons until I can barely feel my arm. Then she takes it out, steps over my body, like I am nothing and takes off into the jungle.

Johanna has betrayed us. Not that I should be surprised. This ally thing was never going to last forever. She and Finnick were probably planning it for days. And I stupidly let my guard down. I should have killed her while I had the chance.

I am lying down, face in the grass. I can feel the wound in my side reopening and there is still blood running down the side of my face, dripping over my lips. My left arm is completely useless from where Johanna stabbed me. I am a bloodied, crippled mess but I cannot give up now. I use my one good arm to drag myself across the soil, inching myself slowly back to where I know Peeta is. I hope he can win. Johanna will get rid of Enobaria. Peeta just has to hope that she and Finnick destroy each other so he has a genuine chance.

I manage to lift my head ever so slightly so I can stare upwards. There is a large shadow in the sky. It almost looks like a…..hovercraft.

"Katniss! Katniss, where are you?" I can see that head of blonde hair ever so slightly, head turning frantically as he searches for me. I want to tell him where I am but I cannot seem to muster the strength to raise my voice to him. I am half buried in dirt and blood and grass.

I can see Beetee not too far away, perched in a tree, his wire wrapped around his hands. What is he doing?

There is an explosion of noise that shakes my whole body. My eyes close and open frequently and it looks almost like it is raining fire. This is it, I realise. I'm having delusions from the loss of blood. I am going, going…

Gone.

* * *

><p>I should be dead.<p>

But somehow I open my eyes. And I know I am not dead, because I recognise the inside of one of The Capitol hovercrafts, similar to the one me and Peeta were picked up in the last Games. If I am dead, there has to be a better afterlife than this.

I sit up with great difficulty, my body stiff and sore. Someone has stitched up my arm and bandaged my stomach. I feel for the wound on my head where Johanna struck me but it is only a patch of pink, raw skin.

I get off the bed gingerly, taking small, quiet steps. If The Capitol have taken me, then they must have Peeta too. What are they going to do to us? How did we end up out of the arena?

I look around the room, searching for something I can use as a weapon. It seems though that they have removed anything even remotely dangerous. Oh how well they know me.

I close my door as silently as possible and head down the hall. I can hear voices. One is almost familiar – gruff and gravely, with a hint of irritation…..

I open the door and three pairs of eyes lock on to me. Only two pairs look surprised. The third, grey seam eyes, just raise in appreciation. "Bout time you woke up sweetheart," Haymitch comments, and this is one of the very rare times I notice that he has no drink in his hand.

Finnick is smiling at me, but there is something very sad about it. On his left, there is a man I am sure I have seen before but cannot name.

The man seems to sense my hesitation regarding him. "Plutarch Heaversbee," he says, standing up and offering me his hand. I ignore it, because I know now where I recognise him from. He is the head Gamemaker.

Haymitch gives a low chuckle. "You can trust him Katniss." As if to reinforce this, Plutarch smiles at me. I still don't shake his hand though.

"Tell me what happened," I say softly.

To my surprise, Haymitch does not make a snappy comment in reply. He answers in detail with a straight face. Apparently there was a plan to break us all out of the arena, a plan formed as soon as the Quarter Quell was moved up so suddenly. Most of the tributes besides the Careers were in on this plan. Except of course Peeta and I.

Plutarch deliberately put the wire in the arena, so that Beetee could blow the arena up. That's what he was doing when I saw him in the tree. He was blowing up the force field so that the hovercraft could retrieve us.

There is a pause. "We didn't get everyone Katniss. The Capitol picked up Johanna and Enobaria….and Peeta." My fists clench reflexively and I feel like my chest could explode. The Capitol has Peeta. Haymitch promised he would save him, protect him. He failed.

Plutarch takes over but his voice is barely background noise. I am staring at Haymitch and he is staring back at me, my eyes glazing over with rage. "The tributes all agreed to sacrifice their lives for you Katniss. To keep you alive so the rebellion could live."

Many things click into place. Finnick trying so hard to resuscitate Peeta and offering to rescue him off the plate on the very first day. Johanna standing by his side when the Careers pounced on us. They were all protecting Peeta. But not for him. For me.

"You never planned to save him, did you?" I ask Haymitch quietly, and right then, it is only him and me, and the broken promise to protect a boy hanging between us. Our eyes stare each other down, daring the other to blink. Finally Haymitch looks away. He doesn't have to say a word for me to know the truth.

I leap out of my seat towards Haymitch. I may not have any weapons but I have my fists and my feet and my nails and I inflict as much damage as I can on him. He doesn't even try to stop me. Maybe he knows how much he deserves this after he let them take Peeta.

Finally Finnick pulls me off. Haymitch clears the tiny trace of blood on his face that I caused. Good. He deserves that and more. With a glare directed at me, he says, "You need to listen to me sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you need me. This isn't about you anymore. This is about something bigger than all of us. Something that's been going on since before you were born."

"I don't care!" I scream. I know I'm being selfish but Haymitch promised. He promised to protect Peeta and he once again lied. "They've got him Haymitch. They've got Peeta. You have to go help him."

Plutarch Heaversbee and Haymitch exchange a look. There is something else they are not telling me.

"District 12 was bombed," Haymitch says flatly and the pain in my chest intensifies. My home. Destroyed. The words don't seem synonymous with each other. "Your family got out okay. They're safe." I am so relieved I let out a sob in Finnick's arms. Prim. My mother. They're okay. The Capitol haven't taken them away from me like they've taken everyone else.

Haymitch pulls a flask from his pockets but he does not drink it. He simply holds it in his hands, weighing it in his palms. "Peeta and the other tributes weren't the only ones The Capitol picked up." My thoughts go straight to my family but they're safe according to Haymitch. But who else…

It comes to me as soon as he says it. "They've got Gale, Katniss."

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><p><strong>I just would like to say thankyou to everyone who reviewed, alerted, favourited or just simply took the time to read the story. There will be a sequel - you'll get to find out what happened to Gale and if Katniss and Peeta will ever truly work things out and get their happy ending. It will be probably be up within the week. Look for it.<strong>

**Oh and p.s 100 reviews? You are all awesome :)**


	14. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**- **The sequel to** *Running right into the fire* **is up now - **The Mockingjay of District 13** is up now!

- My other story **Real or Not Real **is ongoing as well. Check it out and review.

- Thanks again for all who read this story


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